Scion of the House of El
by ObsidiansTwilight
Summary: What if there was a Kryptonian god. What if this god was sealed away in the dying red sun of Krypton in the greatest untold battle of creation. What if this God wanted to protect its only last surviving child. New story
1. Prologue Scion Of The House of El

Prologue

The Last Song of Krypton

Disclaimer

I in no way shape or form hope to gain any endorsements, monies, and or monetary recognition from this story.

The attention from the celebration drew in everyone from the surrounding countryside and neighboring cities. The crowds were massive, stretching from the capital crystal towers thru the city great gates. Thousands upon thousands strong, the crystal city on the ice planet Krypton, swelled to compactly as people celebrated in the streets.

The youth frolicked and danced tossing out flowers and garlands laughing merrily, the old amused, remised on the past chuckling with fond nostalgia of times long gone. Young men thru caution to the winds, getting on one knee in abandonment and proposing to their loves. All eyes turned towards the future.

It was a joyous day for the people of Krypton. General Zod and his subordinates had been captured. Declared enemies of the state by the Kryptonian council, they had been sentenced to a place worst then death, where only the most dangerous of criminals are imprisoned, the phantom zone.

Yes life was good, today was a turning point in their world. You could smell the change in the air, not even the ever frequent increasing tremors could dissuade the people of the fact that their future was bright. Yet the tremors came and was ever present, haltingly and increasing, a deadly symphony, that came almost in an ominous song. A foreboding chorus drowned out and smothered in the masses.

And so the people of Krypton laughed and celebrated. The red sun illuminating the city, casting it's failing light upon the council of nine. The council, each of which sat smugly on their thrones, their eyes every so often glancing at the open window of the tallest tower in the city. Hoping to catch the eye of the man who lived there.

Though no one had spoken a word to the man in the ten days he has been exiled. His name had been whispered in in huddled corners, his crime spoken in hushed tones over the dinner table. His tower centered in the middle of the great city, once standing as a pillar of progress, a shining example of Kryptonian technology. Now a looming constant reminder of the fall of Krypton's brightest mind. Jor-El, the greatest scion of the house of El had committed treason.

His greatest triumph, the capturing of Krypton's three most notorious criminals, had also been his greatest defeat. On that day Jor-El had declared the end of krypton. Jor-El had always been a great orator, his skill and ability to lead had always been a great asset. Yet because he had threatened the stability of Krypton and inciting panic, not even his past deeds could save him; the council of nine had no choice but to excommunicate.

And as the nine members of the council seated on high above the people, sat watching the joyous faces of their charges they knew that their decision was right. Nothing could tarnish this day.

Nine old men turned one by one, glaring haughtily at Jor-El's tower. Nine different old men, nine different faces with nine different goals yet in each of their minds was one same thought. "It's been ten days and we are still here, Krypton is still here, Jor El you are a fool"

And so the old men laughed and congratulated themselves, ridding Krypton of three dangerous criminals and one equally dangerous scientist. Raising their glasses and toasting their brilliance as the red sun started it's descent into the horizon the old men gave a wave to the crowd ushering in a bright new future.

The Red sun slowly lowered into the horizon, its light flickering as night began to overtake day bathing the inhabitance in a sea of blood. Like a candle reaching the end of its wick the red light sputtered and spasm, fighting for its life, as if it too knew that it will never again shed its rays on Krypton.

The Sun's light finally disappeared, and the night lights blinked on in their brilliance. As the people roared in enthusiasm another tremor shuddered beneath the cities feet, yet thru the dancing, throughout the music and merrymaking the last Song of Krypton was never heard. ..

* * *

><p>Jor-El slammed his window shut angrily. "The damned fools," he whispered fiercely, "They doomed us all"<p>

Jor-El paced up and down his laboratory, his thoughts many. Ten days ago he was a hero. Ten days ago he was the man who had undermined General Zod's plan to usurp the council. Ten days ago his wife had given him an heir to the house of El. Ten days ago his world wasn't about to be destroyed.

Jor-El stopped his pacing, making his way to a large terminal, the young man ran his fingers thru his quickly graying hair. Looking at his reflection in the terminal large crystal screen he gave a grim look at the six grey hairs now sprinkled across his head, that ten day ago hadn't been there.

'Like my father it seems under stress my hair would gray. Would explain the reason why all the men in my family have white hair by the time they are forty,' Jor-El thought ruefully.

Jor-El touched a crystal and the terminal sprung to life. A multitude of lights illuminated the crystal display, and a holographic image of a small space craft hung overhead. He could only save one life and neither he nor Lara could travel in the ship.

Maybe if he had more time. If the council had listen and commission ships. Ten days, with Kryptonian technology a few hundred ships could have been built in that time. If that had happen thousands could have survived now billions will die. Too many ifs.

The council had refused to heed his words, failing to see the truth that was right before them. For three days he had begged, pleaded and cried to council. He had warned them, showed them his calculations, the increasing gravity of the red sun and the building pressure of Krypton's core. Never mind the fact that out of Krypton's entire scientist he was the greatest. Never mind the fact that for generations the house of El had dedicated all of their scientific minds to the betterment of Krypton.

Yet it all meant nothing. Now his race was only literally minutes from extinction, and the fools were celebrating. The crystals underneath Jor-El's fingers started to resonate with a soft hum. Maybe he couldn't save his planet, maybe he couldn't save his people but by The Great Rao his only son shall not perish.

Jor-El worked in a fever the likes of which his laboratory had never seen. The crystals on his terminal flashing and flaring in an increasing brilliance. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes stretched painstaking into hours. Sweat poured down Jor-El face in waves as he moved the last circuit crystal in place.

A small ship slowly materialized above the console, he nodded stoically at his work. The ship was a least thousand years more advance then anything anyone on krypton could build. If not for the impending disaster and his own weariness he would be in a joyous mood.

Jor-El stood up from his chair, looking over critically at the spacecraft. His scientific mind searching for any flaws as he ran his hands up and down the smooth outer shell of the craft. About ten feet in length and three feet high the ship passed Jor-El's terse inspection.

A tremor suddenly shook the ice planet, the building swayed and groaned almost in agony. Kryptonians stopped their merrymaking and looked around in fear as yet another tremor shuddered underneath their feet. The tall building almost seemed to shift and heave. Glass and debris toppled out of broken windows, bathe in the twin moons failing light, appearing like a hailing of falling stars. It was then that the screaming started.

Jor-El ignored the sounds from outside, he built and designed this tower with his father, and it would last long enough. His hands worked furiously inside the cockpit, the life support system required careful configuration.

There was influx of air and the sound of a door sliding open, as Lara glided in. Jor-El looked up from his work and smiled for the first time that day. His wife stepped up next to him as he got up tirelessly to his feet.

Her voice sounded like golden honey to his ears as she hugged a cooing baby swath in Jor-El's red cap, "That was the worst one yet," kissing the child's head, "It's time isn't it?"

The sad frightened look on Lara's face nearly broke his resolve. Taking his son and placing him in the cockpit Jor-El had to fight to keep his voice from shaking.

"Yes it's time; if we wait too much longer then the ship won't escape the blast radius." He refused to cry, not here not now, he must be strong, and a life depended on him. Kal-El giggled happily watching in rapt amusement the lights of the ship powered on its life support.

Lara walked up behind Jor-El, wrapping her arms around his waist lovingly. "It's ok; I've said my goodbye, now it's time to say yours."

He shook his head sadly as if trying to escape the thought. "I choose a planet that supports life," he said, "although a bit underdeveloped the potential of the people are limitless."

Kal-El eyes started to close, the life support placing him in a simulated coma where he will stop aging but keep receiving nutrition.

His son, his only son. Whatever may happen perhaps he may be a light that will shine thru the darkness. A single tear finally made its way down his cheek.

"My son I shall send you to Earth, live as one of them, Kal-El, to discover where your strength and your power are needed. Always hold in your heart the pride of your special heritage. They can be a great people, Kal-El, if they wish to be. They only lack the light to show the way. For this reason above all, their capacity for good, I have sent them you... my only son."

A violent tremor thundered his tower and nearly knocked them both off balance. Lara tightened her grip around his waist, burying her head in the nape of his neck.

"Lara," he said reaching into the folds of his cloak, "we have to send him now." Jor-El pulled out a dark green crystal.

"This crystal holds all of Krypton's collective knowledge," placing the crystal in the rear of the ship the craft slowly rose above the ground hovering seven inches. "It holds our life, our culture, and the memories of Krypton, learn well from it my son." If he was right the speed and velocity should get him to Earth at the end of Earths twentieth century.

Lara stifled a scream as a beam fell, the ceiling groaned in protest, as pieces of the roof fell like raindrops.

Jor-El gave one last look at his son, he pressed a single crystal and the small ship roared to life lifting higher up off the ground. Suddenly the crystal terminal shattered as a beam crashed thru the console. Shards of crystal flew thru the air echoing the scene outside.

Lara, covering her face cried out in pain as the shards cut deep into her arms. Jor-El either didn't notice the deadly projectiles or just didn't care as he watch the spacecraft give its final diagnostic before rising towards the ceiling.

Turning to his wife, crouched down with her on their quickly dissolving floor. Parts of the wall gave way and the screams from outside quickly assaulted their senses. The tremors increased violently and Jor-El heard a loud explosion that completely destroyed the building and street over.

Thousands of cracks appeared on the street like a spider's web. And like a prey to a spider Kryptonians fell thru the crack, their howling screams joining the many that so far died.

There was a large tearing sound as a crack snaked it's was diagonally across his floor. Inches before him half his already destroyed tower gave way and opened them to the elements. It was then that he saw the council of nine, still seated on their thrones, mouths agape in untold horror as they witness the carnage before them.

The faces told Jor-El all he needed to know they knew they were wrong and had failed in their ultimate duty passed on to them from council member to council member, untold ages from the time of Rao. He felt neither anger nor sorrow, only a profound regret, regret that he couldn't save them all.

He looked down as Lara pressed closer against him, his arm slung protectively across her shoulder. Their eyes found each other, both vaguely aware that it was the last time they would do so.

BOOM!

* * *

><p>The ship exited the destroyed tower in a shower of debris, an orange streak in the night sky, breaking away from Krypton's atmosphere. Two parents watched sadly as their only child disappear and was gone from them forever.<p>

The once beautiful icy planet of Krypton slowly poured liquid fire from its core. Bubbling up from the many cracks Krypton started to burn, and the people not dead from the initial catastrophe scream in a fear. Their screams coupled with the wails of the injured and the silent horror of the dead created a song of the like never before and never again heard.

Jor-El and his wife hugged for the last time. In his desperation, in his greatest hour of need, he did something no Kryptionian had done for over two thousand year, he prayed.

"Lord Rao, I pray to you not for my sake, neither for my wife, whom I love above all others, nor my people" Lara clutched his hand tightly, keeping him steady as the world burned around them. "Although we Kryptonians have forsaken you and turned our backs in the name of science. I ask this of you please protect our child. So that he may live. We El's who are said to be a descendant of your loins I beseech you ease protect your son"

And just for a second the universe stood still, as if to contemplate his words. A quaint pause in the symphony, while the world held its breath. It has long been said that before the technical revolution two thousand years ago that shaped Krypton, and before the Kryptonians cast away their faith at the betrayal of their god. It was believed those of the House of El where able to see into the future.

And for the brief second that the world was silent, in Jor-El mind's eye he saw a figure, a man that stood tall and strong. Clad in red and blue a yellow light shined powerfully behind him. Lara too must have saw because a soft smile played upon her lips, the man turned slightly and the crest on his chest stood out proudly, the crest of the house of El.

"My Kal-El," Lara whispered sadly, tears cascading down her face.

Jor-El smiled proudly, "My son," and the image was gone. He bent slightly and kissed his wife for the last time, "Till we meet again Lara,"

Lara lifted his hand and softly kissed his palm, "to the cradle of Rao we now go, my love," pausing she swept the curl from his forehead, "Until we are together with Kal-El again." She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulders feeling content and at peace, she had lived a good life with the one she loved. It was enough.

Jor-El placed the tip of his chin on her head. Even now he was amazed at how her hair, smeared with dirt and grime, always remained so beautiful to him. Possessing one of the most brilliant minds in Kryptonian history it almost struck him as funny that that would be his last living thought.

Almost.

* * *

><p>With that the terrible song began to play again, lashes of flames flailed from deep underground. Hell itself seemed to rise as the last tremor rocked Krypton. The red sun exploded in a flare of light, Krypton and its inhabitants were engulf in a single powerful burst of flame as the red sun slowly died and diffused into nothing. A deadly symphony, a choir of cries, a lamenting of lost, the people sung their deadly song, the Last Song of Krypton.<p>

In the space of the exploding star something shifted and moved. Unseen and non-present a conciseness awoke. Older by far than the universe and the verse that came before that, he was the first the sprung forth from the mating of Fate and Destiny. He had heard his children's cries; felt their pain, unable to help he felt their despair.

He wept for every iced laden frozen grass, he wept for every animal, fowl or fish. He wept for his dead sons and daughters. Now only but one remain, his last scion, his last hope. A prayer he had heard, sincere and in earnest, one he shall heed even if not asked, the house of El shall not fall again.

The spacecraft soared thru space like a beam of light, the slumbering baby within ignorant to the tragedy of what befell his people. Kal-El wrapped in his father's cape and his mother's kiss still lingering upon his brow dreamed peacefully of a man bath in red light, only a silhouette in the amber rays, the figure reached out and stroked Kal-El's cheek softly, "My son, never again fear, I am forever with you, Kal-El, Child of the Stars, my son.


	2. Chapter 2

Scion of the House of El

Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**

**I don't own superman, I don't own justice league, and I don't own dc comics, if I did I'll swim in a pool full over money wearing shorts made out of thousand dollar bills**

The earth shone like a brilliant blue beacon of light in dark confines of space. Rao guided the small spacecraft towards the sol system, keeping his all-seeing eyes upon its sleeping inhabitant, a task he'd been doing for the last twenty years. The precious cargo slumbered peacefully as the two wayward Kryptonians made their way to their new home.

He was weak, so very weak. A mere shadow of his former self, his powers slowly stripped away from him in his imprisonment in the red sun. Twenty years since his patron planet's explosion, nearly a quarter half a century in space. In that time not even a slip of his power had returned.

Eons ago, he could have covered the distance between Krypton and Earth in a blink of the eye. Eons ago he could take all the Kryptonians souls currently in purgatory and ascended them to paradise. Rao looked at his young heir sorrowfully, eons ago he had been betrayed by his greatest love.

The sol system satellite Pluto passed his field of vision, the icy cold barren surface reminding him of his lost planet and his lost love. "0 Cythonna," the god thought sadly,"why have you done this." The God's lamenting threating to return him to his mourning state, "why have you betrayed us all."

A meteorite passed by the speeding craft, Rao instantly dismissed it. The large floating rocks haloing the spacecraft. Pieces of the Kryptonian home world followed in their wake as the duo came within distance of the glowing sun.

'Ahh Helios, so you too have fallen' the god thought mournfully, gazing at the great star, 'I am the last of the great gods.' Once many years ago, before the battle of creation he and his sister and brothers rivaled the stars in the sky. Now all but he remained.

'My brother, may your light sustain us.' Rao turned his back on his dead brother; eyes turned towards earth bathe in Helios's great light.

The journey from Krypton had left him pitifully weak, solar energy temporary revitalizing some of his slowly depleting stores of energy. He would not be able to take care of Kal-El. Wrapping his presence around the spacecraft he guided the baby to his new home.

He needed a family, a good one. A couple mentally compatible with his parents. Who morals and character will nurse Kal-El into a fine man.

Kal-El cooed happily as the ship passed the Earth's moon and the baby's face tasted its first kiss of pure sunlight. Kal-El's cheeks instantly tinted to a rosy pink as his eyes fluttered delicately in pleasure.

If Rao had a body he would have smiled, 'It gets better my son, soon you will become stronger, and the power that you hold will be used to protect.'

Rao judging that he had sufficient power cast out his mind and blanketed Earth. Taking special care to avoid the other deities, at his current state he wouldn't even be strong enough to subdue a younger god.

Searching for his two outstanding humans, his mind pinpointed two couples in America. Both couples had exactly what he was looking for. Equally caring and compassionate, the potential for Kal-El to go to either couple and turn out into the man Jor-El wanted was the same.

Jonathan and Martha Kent or Thomas and Martha Wayne. He looked deep into each of their hearts, looking for some flaw or vices, yet found none. In all his years he had never seen such purer souls, other than Jor-El and Lara, the Earthlings were special indeed.

Some would call the workings of his predicament fate, or the more optimistic, destiny. Rao was never the type of God to believe that the workings of the universe had a master plan. His mother and father never privy him to the details. He was a God of action, taking control of a difficult situation and making it work for you.

The greatest gift his parents gave unto all life was free will. Although as a great god he was an exception to the rules, in this instance he decided to honor it.

In the small spacecraft Rao manifested his voice, speaking softly to the waking babe. "My son, though you are but young, wisdom has no age. And sometimes even old age has no wisdom." The last part The God thought of his own mistakes.

In front of the baby's curious face two images appeared, one of s couple, jet black hair. The man face serious but lines around his eyes, that told a story of an always smiling face. He wore black business attire, and beside him stood a blindly gorgeous woman, dark midnight hair, a loving smile kissing her lips.

The other image held a comely laughing young man, sand paper hair. Dressed comfortably in a flannel shirt his arms wrapped protectively around a shorter woman. Red hair and widely mischievous eyes the woman's rosy colored cheeks gave her and beautifully ethereal presence.

Kal-El gurgled happily his tiny arms reaching for both images. "No my son," Rao said softly, "you must choose one, by your own free will, only one."

Kal-El stopped laughing, his face oddly serious for one so young. Hugging his Father's red cloak around him tightly the Scion of the House of El reached hesitantly for one image. His eyes staring hopefully at the couple.

Rao mentally nodded to himself, "My son you have chosen well"

* * *

><p>The stars shone brilliantly as he guided his vehicle down the road, his wife snuggled up tightly against his arm. The position was uncomfortable, yet he didn't have the heart to move her, she was so beautiful when she sleeps.<p>

He turned up the radio a bit, fingers tapping along the steering wheel as he followed along to the beat. The road seemed to stretch on endlessly for miles, it wasn't that long of a drive from the city to their house, yet the toll of the day was wearing on him and he wanted some much needed sleep.

Suddenly there was a flash of light, a ball of white flame crashed onto the side of the road. He jerked the wheel sharply to the right almost colliding with a ball of flames. A rain of fire lite up the night sky as lost control of the wheel. They spun around in the street wildly before crashing in a ditch, his vision clouded in darkness and he knew no more.

"Honey honey, wake up." The frantic worrying voice of his wife stirred him into the waking world. His eyes blinked open, his wife leaning over him, her eyes filled with tears. "O thank god you're okay, I thought...I thou-," she started crying again. "When you didn't wake up..."

He reached up and pulled her in close kissing her forehead, "Shh it's ok, I'm ok," Kissing her tears away he held her in closer, her cries quieting down.

"Are you okay now love," her shakings subsiding.

Wiping her eyes with her hands she gave him a nervous smile, "O look at me, crying like a fool."

He chuckled roguishly, "I kind of like it when you cry, you look cuter."

She gave him a long suffering look, patting the side of his face gently, "the things I put up with, really. You're lucky I didn't go on that date with Nathaniel Hernwall in high school. You know he did ask me out when we were dating"

"What!" He blanched, "Perfect Nate, that pompous jock." Smiling at his wife he refuses to take the verbal bait, "He was just mad that I got the prettiest girl in the whole school."

"O yea, I also remember you punching him in the fa-" She paused listening intently, she heard something...

"Hun, he said, concern laced his voice what's wron-

"Shhhhh"

What's was that she was hearing, 'I know that sound,' she thought. Quickly getting out the car she rushed into the night, hair whipping madly behind her.

"Dang where are you going!" he yelled hopping out the car and running after here. Dodging flaming craters he realized they had just been thru a meteor shower, "Thank God we wasn't killed," he said.

Running up he saw his wife holding something, the sound of a baby's wailing cry filled his ears. As he got closer his wife looked up at him happily, "He was just lying here crying, oh god who would just abandon such a beautiful baby."

He got closer, the child cries quieting down as his wife rocked him to and fro. "I don't know hun," he gave the kid an appraising look; wrapped in a red cloth he looked almost angelic. "What do you think we should do with him?"

She looked up him fiercely her eyes daring, "We'll keeping him of course," O well, they had been trying to have a kid.

"Okay hun but if anyone claims him we'll have to give him up," she gave him a shining grin; kissing the baby's chubby cheeks she knew she wasn't giving this kid up.

"Let's go," he said "let's get the kid something to eat." His wife gave a happy laugh as they made their way back to car.

Suddenly as if from out of nowhere a large ball of fire speeded towards them, a sudden fear clouded his mind. Yelling to his wife to run faster, everything slowed down as he pumped his legs harder, pushing his wife towards the direction of the car.

His only thoughts of her safety when a rock churned underneath his foot and the ground came forcefully to his face. He turned over, watching the quickly approaching ball of fire.

Rising weakly to his feet he knew he had to make it towards the car. His legs felt like jelly as he struggled the two hundred or so feet from the car, only vaguely aware of his wife hysterical screams.

The baby in her arms started to cry and the cries turned into wails. The wails increased in volume and the ground started to rumble in answer. A shock wave of sounds echoed from his powerful lungs, reaching the meteor and shattering it in a cloud of dust. And as quickly as it came, the wailing stopped, the baby quieted down falling peacefully asleep.

Shocked he limped over to his wife as she looked down at the child in awe, "O now we must keep him. I knew he was special; we can't let anyone take him away. They wouldn't understand. I can't imagine all the horrible experiments they would do on him."

Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded his head in agreement. Kneeling by his wife he took hold of the child that just saved his life.

Maybe it was the near death experience, or the supreme live he had for his wife, or some outside force influencing his decision. But it was at that moment that a twenty five year old man, who never babysitter a child in his life, decided to become a father.

"Martha," he said hold the child close to him, he would never let him go. "Let's go home" The child was a gift from god, an angel sent to them, and they will treat him as such.

Martha picked herself up, dusting the dirt off her clothes, " I think he needs a name," taking the baby from her protesting husband, "how about we name him after your father?"

He tapped his chin thoughtfully, "Clark, I like it." His father would be proud, as grandson he has now, and his only regret that his father wasn't here to see him. Pulling his wife closer he gave a chaste kiss looking fondly at new son.

"Welcome to the family Clark Kent"

* * *

><p>Rao looked down at the happy family, the love pouring from them filling the old god with hope. His voice kissed the wind bringing a promise of a brighter future, "Grow well my son"<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes<strong>

**Wow, when I first started writing this story last week I had no idea it would get this much feed back. Believe it or not this fic has over a hundred story subscriptions and alerts. Although it is kinda depressing because it only has 15 reviews, so people please review, if I don't get any reviews then I don't know what to fix soooo pleeeeassssseeee review….dont make me beg**

**Anyway I hope someone caught on to the fact that I completely left out who was clarks parents was till the very end, although I did seriously consider he and bruce being brothers, just a thought, stay tuned for the next chapter n please review**


	3. Chapter 3

Scion of the House of El

Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**

** I wish I owned superman, I wished I owned the wonderful world of dc, if I did supes would have never hooked up with Lois, lex probably would have gotten what he deserved and superman powers would have been explained in greater detail.**

"Oh, Clark no!" A loud crash was heard as a beat up dusty red truck pulled into the driveway.

"Put that down young man it's not a toy." A boyish giggle echoed from the opened window, followed quickly by the exasperated sighs of one Martha Kent.

Jonathan Kent exited his truck and made his way up the steps of the porch, smiling to himself at the commotion inside.

"Don't you run from me mister," there was the sound of a rapid patter of little footsteps, "Just wait till your father gets home."

Taking that as his que to enter Jonathan unlocked his door walking into the bedlam. Closing the kitchen door as quietly as he could the middle aged farmer crept up behind his frazzled wife.

Martha gave a start of surprise when a pair of arms circled around her waist, recognizing the familiar scent of sweat and hay; she turned and punched his arm playfully.

"By all that is holy, Jonathan Kent," she said as his grin threatened to split his face, "you startled me."

Laughing he leaned down and gave her a chaste kiss, "How's the lil tyke."

Martha didn't answer; instead she grabbed him by his arm, dragging him towards the living room. Jonathan stumbled and almost fell as he was pulled along behind his fiery headed spouse.

The living room was a complete mess. Pieces of paper and furniture were littered across the floor. Picture frames hung on the walls were slanted crookedly; a rocking chair and two small coffee tables were stacked strategically in the center of the room, creating a small fort.

Jonathan looked on in amazement as a small child of three crawled out of the furniture styled fort. 'The kid was amazing,' Jonathan thought, 'some of those tables were easily eighty pounds.'

Every day the boy was growing stronger and faster, some days he would break a sweat trying to catch Clark for his nightly bath. Jonathan was by no means a slouch, years of football and working the farm had given him a tough lean body. But all that paled in comparison to the speed Clark could push out when he refused to take a bath. Jonathan was eternally thankful for his being in shape, catching the boy was hard but by no means impossible; Martha had long since given up.

Except for the bath time, Clark was a very well behaved boy. Jonathan couldn't have asked for a more perfect son, a child from god. They knew he was not completely human; the little ship Jonathan found at the meteor site gave testament to that fact.

Jonathan cringed inwardly, remembering the long hours spent lugging that ship into his truck, and again the many more hours hiding it in his farm house. Whatever the material the ship was made out of it was much denser than anything he had ever seen. He had been sore for weeks afterwards; it had felt like he was dragging around a couple of thousand pounds.

Jonathan crossed his arms, stepping forward he put on his best father face. "Clark," he said quietly, "what are you doing with your mother's furniture she worked so hard to clean."

The proud look on the three year olds face instantly turned to horror as he saw the displeasure in his father's eyes. Glancing at his mother for help, the boy's eyes started to water as she gave him her own disapproving look.

"Ma... Pa," Clark's voice barely above a whisper, "I was... It's my...I'm sorry." The boy finished, head tilted down in shame.

Jonathan crouched down till he was leveled with the raven headed toddler, "son, why didn't you stop when your mom said to."

Clark started fidgeting with his hand nervously, "I don't know Pa," a lone tear slid down his cheek, "I just had an urge to build a fort."

Like any good mother Martha couldn't abide the sight of a crying child. Placing a hand on Jonathan's shoulder she gave her husband a knowing nod.

"Well Clark," she said happily, a soft smile dancing on her lips, "how about if you can clean up the whole mess before supper time, we can forget this little incident."

Clark wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, giving both his parents a wide eyed look of exuberance, "really, you mean it."

Jonathan laughed wholeheartedly, "Absolutely son, and," he whispered conspicuously, "I'll help you clean up too."

"Yeaaa!" Clark leaped from his left to his right foot repeatedly, his limitless energy granting another chuckle from Jonathan.

Martha gave Clark a tight hug, kissing Jonathan on his cheek she gave them both a measured look, "ok boys dinner will be at seven, I want it clean in here when I come back." She gave her husband a sly wink as she exited out the door.

Jonathan rubbed his hands together dramatically, "now son lets dismantle your fortress of solitude."

Clark in the process of picking up a chair bigger then he was stopped and looked at his father questionably.

Jonathan noticing the look raised his eyebrow, "what is it son."

"Nothing Pa it's just," Clark looked at his father in concentration, "Fortress of Solitude, it feels as if I should know that name."

Jonathan placed his hand on Clark's head, "don't worry about it son, let's hurry up and finish, I think I smell lasagna."

"Yea Pa, let's go faster." And in a whirlwind of speed Clark blurred throughout the living room, the mess he made quickly being cleaned up.

Jonathan grasped in shock, watching his son zip along the room, creating small gusts of wind in his wake. He looked on in awe; perhaps Clark was letting him catch him for all his baths.

* * *

><p>...and all the Kings horses and all the Kings men were able to put Humpty together again. The End"<p>

Jonathan closed the book placing it on the nightstand. Walking towards his sleeping son he pulled the red blanket up around his neck. Tucking him in tightly, "Night son."

"I think I remember the ending of that story going a little bit different than that." Jonathan looked up, Martha stood in the doorway, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

"Well," he said walking to his wife, "you know Clark always likes a happy ending."

Martha wrapped her arms around his waist lovingly, "he's a smart kid, and can you believe that he has read all of my cooking books in one sitting. He bakes a cake better than Julia Childs.

Jonathan looked at his wife speechless, "Martha that's amazing," he closed the door slowly, not wanting to wake their energetic child. "It's wild, he is only three. What will he be like when he's older?"

Jonathan sagged against the hallway wall as if all the energy was sucked out of him, "Martha I just had a scary thought."

His wife clutched on him in concern, "Jonathan what's wrong."

He held her hand squeezing it softly," what are we going to do when he's a teenager."

Martha gave a light laugh, her beautiful red locks dancing around her face, "come on you big baby, let's go to bed."

"Yea it's easy for you to brush off," he said opening the door to their bedroom and kicking off his jeans, "I'm the one who has to play catch."

Closing the door softly Martha patted Jonathan cheek lovingly, "I'm sure you'll do fine dear."

* * *

><p>A brilliant red light flared in Clark's bedroom, illuminating the room without a source. A presence seemed to flood the small space as the child slept on unaware of the holy resonance.<p>

The light condensed and formed into a solid figure.

In the darkness of the night all that could be seen was the imposing stature of the figure. The silhouette stood at a looming 6'5, the air of holy power it emitted soothing the child into deeper slumber.

The figure moved in the dark, gliding smoothly across the floorboards. Passing the open window, moonlight streamed thru the wind tussled curtains. The feeble rays flickering upon the open chest of the figure, revealing the ancient crest of the house of El.

"My son, you have grown well in two years." Rao spoke softly with a godly amount of love.

"So too have I grown, and seen much of this planet called earth," Rao placed a hand on Clark's head. "They are a wonderful people Kal-El, protect them well.

"Although I've gained much power, it is still not yet time for you to know me." Rao took his hand away.

"The power I now wield is but a drop in the ocean to what I had once possessed," he back away, his eyes now turned towards the sky.

"We gods are fickle creatures, quick to anger, slow to change. If we cannot control it we destroy it. If I let myself be known, the gods of earth may try and harm you. And as your patron, no, as your god," he looked back down warmly at his young charge.

"As your father, I cannot let that happen." Rao started to disappear, his body becoming translucent in the darkened room.

"Thus I shall acquire strength on Helios, the Earth sun shall be sufficient in restoring me. It will take a many years my son." The great God's voice started to fade as the last vestiges of his presence diminish.

"Fear not my son; grow strong and powerful, follow the righteous path of the House of El. Though you appear human, you are not one of them. Your skin and your bones may grow stronger but your heart is much less fragile. Guard it well, that is one thing I cannot protect for you."

And with that Rao vanished, his being now basking in the powerful ambience of the Sun.

"Father," the young Kryptonian whispered audibly in his slumber.

Clark Kent slept soundly, dreaming peacefully. Young though he was, even if he was older, even if he was not asleep, he would wonder why in the darkness of the night, why did it feel as if he lost someone important. In the morning he would look upon his bed in bewilderment at his tear soak pillow.

* * *

><p>"Catch it son!"<p>

Jonathan reared his arm back, launching the football as hard as he could. The farmer smiled in pleasure as the ball sailed from his outstretched palm; he hadn't thrown a pass like that since high school, rubbing his aching shoulder he could see why.

Thirteen year old Clark Kent looked up at his father grinning cheekily, "That's nothing Pa."

The black haired boy crouched down, muscles flexing as his worn out jeans groaned in protest. Red shirt whipping wildly in the wind, when with a joyous cry the young lad leaped high into the sky. His grin was infectious as his hands groped closely to the rapidly ascending pigskin.

Jonathan Kent watched his son disappear in a burst of grass and debris. Pangs of sadness stab his heart as he heard the peals of laughter echoing from Clark high above. Theses father-son moments were happening less and less. The farm work, even with Clark's help was becoming more and more difficult every day. Being at fifty, even a healthy, and the workload was starting to wear on him. There were mornings he was sore and out of breath. Hiding it well from Martha he just chalked it up to old age.

Clark shouted in victory as his hands wrapped around the football. Plummeting back down to Earth he gave his father a thumbs up.

"Hey Pa," he yelled, waving his free arm madly. "I got the ball."

Jonathan returned the thumbs up with his own, sitting down slowly in the plush field the farmer let out a silent sigh.

* * *

><p>Clark landed about fifty meters away, a cloud of dirt kicked up from his fall. He looked down at his landing critically, he was getting better, and this time there wasn't so much as a crater. Making his way to his father he remembered all the other times where his landings had 'altered the landscape'.<p>

Sweat poured down Jonathan face as Clark came up, the boy looked on in alarm as he heard his father irregular sharp breathing.

"Pa, what's wrong," the lad ran to his father dropping to his knee anxiously. "Did you get hurt?"

Jonathan looked at his son questionably before suddenly giving a light chuckle, "No no, Clark I'm fine."

He straighten his back bringing his breathing under control. Looking into Clark's worrying eyes the farmer ruffled his hair nonchalantly.

"It's just old age Clark," he said patting the grass beside him. "Here let's sit for a while."

Clark sat beside his father, his shoulders small and slim compared to the bigger and broader shoulder of the older man. He had always been strong, for as long as he could remember.

After one failed attempt a baseball, with the other kids at school he subjected himself to the background. He hadn't even thrown the ball a tenth of his strength, yet the baseball shot out of his hand like a bullet. Disappearing into the distance. Luckily no one was hurt. Fearing to hurt anyone he toned down his personality, blending himself into obscurity, hiding his true self so that his abilities would go unnoticed.

He didn't raise his hand in class any more, deliberately not participating so as to not draw attention to himself. Answers for a test, most he could have answered at age five, he purposely got wrong. School was almost too easy, he reasoned he was more knowledgeable then his teacher on most of the subjects taught.

His father gazed lazily into the sky, idly chewing on a stem of wheat. Clark wondered what it would be like to be normal, so carefree. His father could brush troubles off and keep moving forward. That was a strength he hoped to gain. The strength to take on anything the world throws at you; it was a quality he admired most about his father. The silence seemed too stretched on endlessly as if the world held its breath.

Clark looked at his hands sadly, why was he here, to what purpose. When he had the unfortunate baseball accident his parents had told him the truth. That he wasn't from this world, that he was sent to them from god. At eleven years old he had confronted his parents about his powers. Finding out that he would never be normal, that he was from a different world changed him that day.

But if that was true, then why did god send him here? Why did he have these abilities, and where there more like him? Although he loved his mother and father very much, nothing in the world could change that. He had a nagging urge to know more about his real parents his real heritage. He gazed at the sky every night from his hayloft , dozens of thoughts swarming in his head yet one thought always prevalent, 'did they even love me'.

"Hey, Pa," the void of silence was broken by the sound of Clark's prepubescent voice. The evening sun disappeared behind a cluster of clouds, settling the land in shadows.

Jonathan swung his head towards his son, noting the sad look on his face, "what is Clark?"

The thirteen year old brought his knees up to chin, looking all but vulnerable, "Do you ever feel like you're not living as you should?"

Jonathan raised his eyebrow rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "is this about the fact that you're hiding your abilities."

Clark nodded his head, "I don't know, it's just sometimes I don't feel like me," he placed his hands on his chest, "that Clark Kent is just a mask. That maybe I'm not Clark Kent, maybe I'm something more."

Jonathan wrapped his arm across the shoulders of his son hugging him tightly. "It's hard isn't it son, being someone you're not, always staying in the back when your born to be in the front."

Clark stared at his shoes unable to look up, "Pa, I'm so different from the other kids," the lad rubbed his arms self conscientiously, "I just wanna be normal."

"No Clark, you don't want to be normal." Jonathan raised his son's head till they were facing each other. "You want to accepted, and I think one day you will be. You have great power son, something the people of Earth have never seen before." Jonathan ruffled Clark's raven locks. "When you are older it is up to you on how you use that power. And maybe you are more than Clark Kent, and when the day comes that find out who you are; your mother and I will be behind you every step of the way.

Clark smiled brightly jumping to his feet, feeling better. Somehow talking to his father always makes him feel better.

"Com'on old man race you back the house."

Jonathan laugh loudly, standing up quickly he brushed the dirt from his pants, "the day that you beat me is the day I'll walk with a cane."

With that the two Kents jogged back to the farm, Clark running just slightly behind his father, 'sometimes it's ok to appease the old man' he thought with a smirk.

The two made their way up to the house Jonathan winded from the short jog. Clark made it to the door first, turning the knob and swinging it open happily.

Jonathan walked up the steps slowly when without warning a sharp pain quickly snaked its way up the side of his back freezing him in place for a minute. Like a lightning strike it came, he almost cried out and double over in pain when it suddenly subsided.

'I must be more tired than I thought,' he said to himself, a thin sheen of perspiration decorating his face. Taking the last few steps up the porch he followed his son into the house.

* * *

><p>"Happy now Martha, the doctor poked and prodded me in place not even I should know about."<p>

Jonathan and Martha Kent sat seated side by side in the small clinical waiting room of Smallville Patients First. Currently the only ones their Jonathan had his arms crossed, with a look of deep annoyance.

"Jonathan behave," Martha Kent sat on a nearby by chair in the small waiting room with her husband. "The doctor will be here in any moment with the results."

Jonathan crossed his arms, "And I told you I'm fine, you're blowing this way out of proportion."

Martha eyes narrowed dangerously, "blowing this out of proportion, Jonathan Kent you were passed out on the floor."

He shifted nervously," I'm fine I was just exhausted-

"What if Clark hadn't found you," her eyes started to welled up, "that is not a sight a fifteen year old boy should see, his father passed out in front of him."

Jonathan inched closer taking his wife's hand squeezing it gently. It really wasn't as bad as she think, Clark was alright. And he felt fine, at fifty-five he felt great, other than the occasional hiccups that come with age. Being forced to go to a doctor by his wife was not something he looked forward to, it was completely unnecessary.

The door open and a doctor came in, middle age and balding, the thin doctor checked off a few notes on his clipboard before make his way over to the Kents.

He sat down in the unoccupied chair in front of them slowly taking off his glasses. Martha gripped his hand tightly fearing the worst.

"Mr. and Mrs. Kent," he began, his words spoken in precision almost as if scripted.

Jonathan barely heard the doctor's words. Why was it so hot in here, he pulled his coat off, it was his favorite jacket. Martha had given it to him for their ten year anniversary.

"I'm really sorry to tell you this Mr. Kent but it seems you have..."

The world started to move in slow motion. Martha was crying on his arm, why was she crying. Sunlight streamed thru the open windows, and a golden haze filled the small room. Jonathan noticed the small silvery wisps of dust floating in the sunlight, 'I wonder if Phil still needs help putting up that fence.'

The doctors mouth was moving, what was he saying, why couldn't he hear him? Why couldn't he concentrate? Wait what was that word, did the doctor say-9

"Cancer."

Cancer, is that what he said, who has cancer? Is it me? I have cancer. Shouldn't I be afraid, shouldn't I be sad, shouldn't I be crying. Am I going to die?

Jonathan kissed the head of his weeping wife. How was he going to tell Clark?

**Author Notes**

**Thank you all for the great reviews, sorry it took so long for this chapter to come out, what can I say holidays are my busy days.**

**After one more chapter this story is gonna get much deeper and longer, and we'll finally get to see wonder woman, Yeaaaa.**

**Also im seriously considering killing of Jonathan, I know I know he always die, I really don't need him for the plot, and also he is too easy to write. But if anyone wants me to keep him alive then I will, for I write for the will of my readers.**

**Till next time, subscribe and review please **

**ObsidianTwilight**


	4. Chapter 4

Scion of the House of El

Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**

**Ok so I don't own superman, i know its very painful to admit. I cry myself to sleep every nite at bedtime. but if I did, he…would… freaking...be…awesome**

* * *

><p><strong>Welcome to another exciting chapter in S.o.t.h.E, today boyes and girls its gonna be a huge change in the life of clark and friends, so sit back relax, and put down that damn twilight novel, and enjoy<strong>

* * *

><p>"... and if the train is leaving Boston at x miles per hour and traveling at a speed at y..."<p>

Clark was in class at Smallville high, he barely heard the teacher, currently distracted, bored out of his mind. He stopped paying attention in class years ago, everything was too easy. It only took him a fraction of a second to memorize a page of a book, and perhaps a couple of minutes to go through his entire syllabus for the year.

He gave a mental sigh as he glance at the overhanging clock. He'd been at school since seven, it was now two. Of course he didn't even need to look at the clock, throughout the day the ticking of the school clock has been well documented in his head. From the time he walked into class till now there has been 25200 ticks. That's 25200 seconds, or 420 minutes. He gave a deep sigh, eight long hours.

He wanted to groan in protest, seven hours, he been stuck here for seven hours. And only one more hour to go before he was released from this prison.

Clark sat at the back of the classroom, his plight going unnoticed. At seventeen years of age he reasoned he only had one more year of school then he could kiss this boring place goodbye. He wanted excitement, adventure; he wanted to see the world.

'Maybe I'll move to Metropolis,' he thought, leaning back in his chair, 'and become a journalist.' Journalism was an exciting job, covering stories all over the world, every terrain every aspect of life.

Tipping his chair back slightly his eyes caught on Lana Lang sitting in the front row. In his opinion the prettiest girl in Smallville. As always Lana looked gorgeous, she sported a pony tail, revealing her long slender neck.

Smallville was experiencing an Indian summer, so Lana in her effort to stay cool had on a thin spaghetti strap halter top. Clark almost fell out his desk, 'ah hell,' he thought, trying to tear his eyes off the sight of his beautiful classmate.

Usually even in the hottest time of Smallville Clark would never feel the heat. He could differentiate the temperatures, usually with his infrared vision. Yet seeing the sweat slowly drip down her shoulders, rubbing the side of her neck with her soft hands, gave him another type of heat altogether.

"Damn." He whispered.

Although not in the least bit shy, Clark would have long ago stepped up to Lana and asked for a date. Except for the fact that Lana was too popular, going out with her would call too much attention to himself. Yet right now that argument seemed a little thin. Clark folded his arms over his desk lay down his head in supplication. Although he came to terms with his abilities long ago it still hurt to know that he would never be normal.

Clark's new position on his desk drew his eyes to Lana's legs. He looked on in amazement, 'how can someone so short have such long legs.'

Lana shifted in her seat, her two slender almond tanned limbs coming into better view. The heat in Clark's body seemed to condense and travel to just behind his eyes. Clark gripped his desk, the soft wood cracking in protest as Lana uncrossed her legs, causing her skirt to ride slightly higher.

The heat behind his eyes increased and Clark was physical forcing himself not to use his X-ray vision. Lana stretched and arched her back, raising her arms above her head, her smooth swift movements causing her scent to invade his nose.

Sunshine and gold drops.

If sunshine and gold had a scent it would be Lana. The heat behind his eyes increased dangerously as the teacher drone on. Suddenly the pencil on her desk rolled off and dropped to the floor. Unable to look away and feeling every bit as dirty he watched as she leaned over, bending down to pick up her wayward pencil.

In Clark's mind it all happened in slow motion, as soon as Lana bent down He got a clear view of her cleavage at the same time a smooth piece of her thigh was revealed and Clark saw just the tip of her panties.

Clark groaned loudly at the sight unable to control his teenage hormones. The heat behind his eyes spiked, he forced his head to turn towards the open window. Not knowing what's going to happen but fearing the heat in his eyes he did the only thing he could think of, he forced it out.

Two twin red hot beams speeded out of his eyes into to the sky. 'Whoa, the heck... '

Clark looked on in awe as the beams soared over the small community of Smallville breaching the clouds, disappearing beyond even his sight. He was glad that he sat in the back; no one had seen the dual beams coming from him.

"Mr. Kent," Clark looked back into the classroom, the teacher glaring daggers at him.

"I see that my lesson today must be quite boring if you're going to make noises in my class."

Clark gave her a confused look, 'crap she must have heard me groan at Lana, Darn!'

Not knowing what to say to appease the situation he kept his mouth shut.

"Now Mr. Kent," continued the teacher, the whole class were now looking at him, "if you would be so kind as to solve this problem, I'm sure your boredom would desist."

Clark got out of his chair making his way towards the blackboard self-consciously. 'Great,' he thought morosely.

As he walked past Lana, she gave him a bright smile. Clark's steps grew lighter when he saw the smile, keeping himself calm resisting the urge to blush. He took a glance at the blackboard, his mind registering the long equation, organizing the mathematical problem, coming to the solution quicker than the time it takes to blink.

If he was thinking straight, if thoughts of skin, legs and Lana didn't fill his mind then the mistake he was about to make would never have happen. Clark whenever placed in a situation where he would be force to shows some of his skills to anyone other than his parents. Would either, play dumb, acting as if the current problem was outside his realm of understanding or would spend long agonizing slow minutes, hands on chin contemplating his options. Then as if in an epiphany coming to a solution, he'll give the wrong answer, backing away graciously submitting to the higher wisdom of the teacher.

That was if he was thinking clearly. And so like his brain did whenever faced with a problem, it solved it. Barely glancing at the board, Clark picked up the chalk and began writing, a dopey grin plastered on his face.

Stepping back he looked at his handy work, a weird sensation prickles his spine, turning around his classmate were giving him a awed and some an outright shocked look.

His teacher gasped and dropped her clipboard, "well Mr. Kent," she gestured at his desk, "you may go sit back down."

Clark went back to his seat, 'what was going on?' He looked up on the problem on the board, and realized his mistake. So distracted by Lana he completely solved the complex problem, but not only that.

Clark sat back shifting thru his memories, locating the speech his teacher gave to the class just after he started to ignore her.

* * *

><p><em>'Okay class it has come to my attention that some of you may think that this class may have no practical application towards life in general. That when you leave this school and move on with your lives, you feel that whatever you learn in here will not benefit you in any way.<em>

_Pausing for dramatic effect she continued_

_Well I'm here telling you that you would be wrong. On this black board is an equation NASA engineers use to determine space flight, fuel depletion and power output in their daily simulations. Very much important for our boys in space. I can promise you that no one in this classroom could even come close to solving it..._

_Mr. Kent, I see my lesson today must be quite boring...'_

Clark gave a deep sigh as he gazed up at the clock willing it to move faster, 'I am such an idiot.'

* * *

><p>The school bell ranged loudly overhead as Clark added all his books to his locker. He had finished all his homework for the next week in his first class, so he added that in too.<p>

Clark slung his bag over his shoulder, giving a sigh of relief as he walked towards the school's double doors and towards freedom.

"Clark Kent."

It was a testament to how distracted he had been throughout the day that he had failed to hear anyone come up behind him. He breathe in slowly, a sweet fragrance wafting his senses.

Sunshine and gold. 'Lana'

He turned around, Lana stood there completely beautiful. The stampede and sounds of the other students were drowned out in her presence.

"You gave us quite a pleasant surprise in class earlier," the smile that graced her face causing his mood to lift considerably.

He ran his hands thru his raven locks nervously, "ah yea about that, I umm, I study a lot," he said.

Lana gave a light laugh, reminding him of a flock of nightingales, "I can see that Clark, I didn't know you were so smart." he blushed as she stepped closer, memories of her from earlier still plaguing his thoughts.

"Wow Clark when did you get so big," if possible he blushed deepen, "how tall are you?"

Clark backed closer to the wall, chuckling softly, "it's been a long time since we were kids playing in the sandbox Lana," Clark stopped moving when the wall touched his back, "I'm about 6'2."

"Gosh Clark you're like the tallest in the school," Lana walked closer to him, "any way Clark, I'm having a party tonight and I want you to come."

Clark looked at her in shock; he'd never been invited to a party before. "Gee Lana it's kinda short noticed I'm not sure if I cou-"

"Oh no Clark don't say you can't make it," she pointed her finger at his chest, "I'm not taking no for an answer."

She started to glide away; Clark was struck silent by her boldness. "Be at my house at seven tonight, and don't you be late."

She disappeared out the door, Clark stood there mouth agape.

"What just happen?" he said aloud.

* * *

><p>"Hiya Lana, you know I think you're really cute and was wondering if you would go out with me one day."<p>

'No that's really stupid,' Clark thought to himself, as he looked at his reflection in his standing mirror.

Clark straightened his jacket for the thousandth time. He was wearing brown slacks, a black shirt and a red jacket. His hair was slicked back as he gave himself a thumbs up and a smile before leaving his room, "let's get em' Clark."

He leaped down the stairs entering the kitchen, his father was seated at the table reading a newspaper and his mother was making tea.

"Off to the party Clark," his father said looking over paper."

"Yea Pa, Lana didn't give me a choice." Clark replied reaching for an apple.

"See son, you'll realize soon enough that you can never say no, to a women." Jonathan said sagely.

"Jonathan Kent," his mother said shocked, "what is that supposed to mean!"

Jonathan winked at Clark, whispering so softly knowing no one would be able to hear but Clark, "watch and learn from the master son."

Jonathan placed his paper down carefully giving Martha his full attention. "Honey what I meant was that god must of not only took my rib when he made you. He also took my heart too; you know I can never say no to my heart."

"Jonathan your such a big softy," his Ma said, giving his Pa a quick kiss on the forehead.

Clark wanted to roll his eyes at his father antics. "Ok guys I'm running late, I'll see you later," he said heading for the back door.

"Wait," his mother said, stopping him before he exited the house, "your missing something."

Tapping her finger against her chin his mother paused as if thinking of something, "okay hun now I know what it is." Reaching out for his head she took a string of his hair curling it around his forehead.

"Now you look cute son." His mother gushed.

"Knock em dead son, break a lot of hearts tonight." Jonathan Kent said, tilting his cup of tea.

Clark sighed; he knew he shouldn't have changed his hair, "bye Ma bye Sensei." Exiting the kitchen he sprinted down the road, the world slowing down as he accelerated faster and faster becoming a red and black blur in Smallville countryside

Martha looked at her husband raising her eyebrow, "what did he mean by sensei."

Jonathan laughed nervously, "hehehe you know how kids are honey, all those hormones and weird chemicals running thru his body, no telling what he meant."

His laughter died away as he saw the unconvinced look on her face. "Whelp," he said standing up quickly, "time for bed." Running out the room Jonathan dashed up the stairs.

"Come back here Jonathan Kent," Martha yelled racing after her husband," you have some explaining to do."

* * *

><p>"Who is that?"<p>

"Is that Clark Kent?"

"When did he get so hot?"

"Who's that he's talking to?"

"Hell man, that's that Lana Lang chick."

"Damn pretty boys get all the hot chicks."

Clark ears started to burn listening to all the gossip around him. It only took him about a minute to get to Lana's house and ever since he arrived the gossips been going nonstop.

He wasn't used to all this attention, especially the looks of lust most of the girls were sending his way. He would have enjoyed himself quite more if those looks weren't canceled by the glares of jealousy most of the boys were sending at him.

Lana had latched on to him as soon as he stepped into the door. Her sunny disposition and cheerful presence took away all his misgivings about showing up.

"Clark, Clark," something poked him in the chest, looking down he saw the amused face if Lana.

"Were you listening to me Clark?"

"Yes Lana I was, and I completely agree, I think Mr. Thompson is my favorite teacher too." Well to be honest he really was listening to her, partioning his mind was a trick he learned in school. It enabled him to listen to multiple conversations at once, even if he wasn't paying attention.

He and Lara talked all night; her conversations were surprisingly deep and insightful. Clark never knew that there was a sharp brain behind all that beauty. Her opinion on economic, politics and philosophy completely change his views on her.

Clark was enamored by her need to help people that mirrored his own. Her witty humor and charismatic charm broke away all his previous inhibitions and mental walls.

Clark's eyes were suddenly drawn to her pouty kissable lips as they moved up and down, as she talked about the starving kids around the world.

Lana stopped talking as she noticed his hungry look, a pure animalistic desire in his eyes. She suddenly noticed his chiseled shoulders, his budging biceps hidden beneath the folds of his jacket. His thick hair slicked backed, a baby curl left hanging against his forehead.

Lana's breath caught in her throat as she realized one the, 'Omg he's gorgeous.' Clark started to lean forward, his sights set on her lips. Lana froze, a deer in headlights, waiting for the inevitable.

"Oye Lana bout time I found you." Tall blonde haired blue eyed Pete Ross walked up behind Lana placing his hand on her shoulder in a very familiar way.

"Huh," Lana blinked a few times looking very confused, glancing behind her she saw Pete giving his Oscar winning smile.

"Hiya babe care for a dance," Pete said, the blonde haired blue eyed senior appearing every bit a Nazi to annoyed Clark Kent

"Sure," she said flicking her eyes back at Clark, "I'll meet you on the dance floor."

Pete gave her a nod before pausing in afterthought. To Clark's horror Pete without warning bent down and gave Lana a long sensual kiss.

"Don't be too long babe," Pete said before swaggering off.

Clark sat there devastated; he had to have known it was too good to be true.

Lana looked embarrassed as she gestured to the retreating senior, "my boyfriend Pete," she said, "can be a little abrupt."

Clark shook his head as if trying to ride himself of his invading thoughts. For the first time he curse his perfect memory. "I've gotta go Lana."

Lana looked at him torn, "why Clark, the nights still early?"

Clark zipped up his coat, trying to give his hands something to do, "I gotta get up early, farm work waits on no one."

She stood up quickly following him towards the door, "a bunch of us are going out for a soda tomorrow, your welcome to come."

Clark stepped outside into the night, eyes looking everywhere but at her, "I'll see if I can make it Lana," he started to walk away before stopping and finally looking at her, "I had a good time tonight, thanks for inviting me Lana, goodbye." With that Clark turned and jogged down the street disappearing into the darkness.

Lana watched him leave, her right hand grasping her heart. Why did his goodbye sound so final? She removed her hand touching her cheek, tears? Why was she crying? Lana leaned against her door frame, Pete calling her name inside as she watched the street Clark vanished on. Her heart was beating quickly as she felt a profound sense of wrongness. And why does it feel as if she lost something very important?

* * *

><p>Clark downed the last of his milk as he finished telling his mother about his day.<p>

"Ma it just seems as if that I might never find someone," Clark chewed slowly into his cookie, not tasting his favorite peanut butter, chocolate chip that he loved so much.

"I'm just an idiot Ma; I made a fool of myself." Clark set down his half eaten cookie, looking at his mother.

"Clark did I ever tell you how your father and I first meet." His mother said, folding both her hands in her lap.

Clark shook his head, his gloom momentarily forgotten as his mother started speaking.

"I believe it was about 1984, my father had called your father to come and fix our tractor. Now back then you wouldn't believe the tall skinny thing that your father was back then."

Clark gave a light laugh at the picture forming in his head. His mother hushed him before continuing on with her story.

"I was only a lass, yet I thought your father was the most handsome man I've ever seen. I decided then and there that I would make him my husband."

Clark leaned across the table eager to hear more, "really what did you do."

"I'll tell you what she did," they both turned their heads towards the door as Jonathan Kent strided in; pulling out a chair he sat down.

Martha gave Clark a playful long suffering look, "ok Jonathan why don't you finish the story."

Jonathan poured himself a glass of milk, "You know what she did to get me to marry her."

Clark shook his head, "no what she do Pa."

Jonathan leaned forward as if sharing a secret, "she ignored me."

"Huh," Clark looked at his parents stupefied. "Ma did what?"

"It's true son," his mother said smiling fondly at her husband, "he sent me flowers, candies presents."

She laughed reminiscence, "Once he even sung for me."

Clark looked at his father trying to keep himself from laughing, "You sung, oh gosh dad didn't know you had it in ya."

"Laugh all you want son, but it worked and I got my girl. Although for a while there I was worried she didn't like me. I did everything I could to get her to love me," he lovingly touched Martha's hand, "and I acted a fool to do it."

"The point I'm trying to make here son, is that we all act a little different, vying for the affections of those we want," she patted Jonathan's hand warmly, "but trust me son when I say. That when you meet her, the girl that is meant for you, who completes you in every way. I promise you'll do everything to act a fool too."

Clark leaned back in his chair watching his parents, 'to have a love like that,' he thought.

Suddenly he noticed the beads of sweat on his father's neck, "Pa are you ok-

He sharpened his hearing when his father's steady heartbeat started jerking erratically. "Pa!" He shouted as his father grabbed his chest.

Jonathan gave a muffled scream before falling across the table. "Martha," he whispered.

Martha leaped out of her chair running over to her husband, "Oh God Jonathan," she cried.

Clark hopped out his chair, fear coursing throughout his body as he called his father. "Pa... pa... dad!"

"FATHERRR!

* * *

><p>Rao shifted in his slumber, something, someone, somewhere, was calling him.<p>

* * *

><p>"Mrs. Kent," the doctor said speaking softly to the crying woman, "it was a very bad heart attack; his body had been in slow decline for years. Perhaps if there was no cancer...<p>

Clark stopped listening his body going numb. 'Pa had cancer, why didn't anyone tell me,' he thought angrily, 'all this power I have all this strength, and I can't save him.'

White hot tear streaked down his cheeks as he forced himself to get up and walk towards the doctor. "Can I go in a see him?"

The doctor was about to respond no, but seeing the tear streaked face of a grieving son she conceded, "Please only five minutes, he doesn't have much strength left," the doctor look pained to continue, "Just say your goodbyes."

Clark nodded mechanically, his body on autopilot as he walked into his father's room, his mother's cries echoing in his ears.

His father looked small and grey as he laid in the overly sized hospital. "Hiya Pa," he said to the sleeping figure on the bed, "this is the last place expected to find you here."

Clark could barely see thru the veil of tears that covered his eyes. He wanted to yell, to scream, he wanted something to vent his anger on. He'd give anything in the world to switch place with his father.

A father who found a kid and raised him as his own. A father even through the hardest time kept him on the straight and narrow. Never once had he raised his voice in anger, never once had he shown any type of hatred towards anyone. Clark reached over grabbing his father's hand.

'So why does he have to die.' Clark said to himself, his heart breaking.

"You are the best dad anyone could ask for," he said, wiping the river of tears flowing from his eyes.

Jonathan cracked an eyelid, his breathing labored as he squeezed the hand his son held, "and you Clark...a-are the best son a father could ever want." Jonathan smiled using his hand to wipe away Clark's tears.

"Don't cry Clark, it's all in God's plan," Jonathan let his arm fall down unable to keep it up.

Jonathan eyes started to close, "Pa," he said urgently, "I...I don't know what I should do, you can't die not yet." his body started to shake , refusing to accept his father's dying. The strongest man he had ever known.

"Clark," his father gasped, his eyed once again open. "I want you to do something for me."

Clark moved closer to his father's bed, sitting on the edge, "anything Pa."

Jonathan smiled for the last time, how he loved the boy, and oh how he'd miss him. "Just become the man I raised you to be."

Tears fell freely as Clark nodded his head, "I will Pa, I will."

Jonathan gave his son a final wink and then closed his eyes, his breathing becoming lighter and lighter. Clark listened to his father's fading heartbeat before it to finally disappeared. A gut wrenching pain seized Clark's heart as he felt his father ebb away, he places his head on his father's chest and cried.

"Father."

* * *

><p>Rao woke as he sensed a familiar soul enter his domain. He looked on sadly as the soul drifted towards paradise. So he has died.<p>

"Not yet my friend," Rao anchored the soul to Earth, "He may still yet have a need of you."

"I thank you my Lord," the soul said hovering beyond paradise, "and I need to see him. My son. My Clark"

* * *

><p>Clark looked beyond the sunset, beyond the rolling fields into the future. His father had been dead for three weeks, three weeks of grieving, three weeks of pain.<p>

Clark rolled his hands thru his hair, now recognizing it as gesture his father always does.

"Your leaving aren't you," Clark looked back at his mother, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders whipping madly in the wind.

"Yes," he said simply, "I think it's time to find my place." Clark looked away; he hoped she didn't think he was abandoning her.

A slender hand reach out, cupping his face she turned his head towards hers. "Now Clark don't feel like you're leaving me here all by myself. I've already taken steps, Matt down the road, and his sons are gonna help with the farm.

I've always knew this day would come Clark" reaching on the ground behind her she pulled out his old red blanket.

"Ma what are you doing?" Clark said.

"Hush Clark," in the folds of the blanket she pulled out a large green crystal. "This came when you crashed seventeen years ago. I think it's meant for you now," she said handing over the crystal.

Clark grasp in shock as the crystal went from a dull dark green to a bright neon. "I know where I have to go now Ma," he said as knowledge flooded his brain.

Martha Kent reached up tears in her eyes as she kissed her son's cheek, "Then go follow your heart."

Clark nodded, grabbing his blanket he turned towards the north. Towards his future, to seek his place, to know his past, to know who he was.

Clark Kent, son of Jonathan and Martha turned towards the north to seek his destiny.

* * *

><p>"Come to me my son," Rao said above the clouds. His power fully returned his body fully healed.<p>

"Come to me, Last Scion of the house of El."

**Authors Notes**

**I would like to thank HELLACRE13 for the great reviews, actually the reason I started writing a Superman fic was because of your stories, and also because we need more Kal and Diana fics. Also sorry for the punctuations, believe it or not im writing my stories on my iPhone, so between writing it there and transferring it to my computer, what can I say "shit happens" lol and i honestly wanted to keep Jon alive, but the story literaly wrote itself.**

**oh and the DragonBard, actually i am a Lois Lane fan, i enjoy her character, in all her incarnations very much. Its just im quite dissapointed with all the dc and superman writer who came after 1960, pairing her up with superman. There is nothing special about that realationship, i honestly dont see how it would work, read kingdom come superman, you'll know what im talking about then. **

**Also get ready to see lots of Batman in the near future, i think he and Superman would make the best of friends, their so different in every way its gonna be awesome to write their scenes**

**i as a rule, dont think a chapter is a chapter unless its atleast 5,000 words, so people expect longer chapters. And please let me knw if i need to work on anyhing. Flaimers, bashers, trolls, words if wisdom welcome.**

**Also it has come to my attention that some people think this is a scion fic. I'm sorry if I didn't explain that fully, no this isn't a scion fic or crossover. In fact when I say scion I'm actually referring to the fact that Kal is a descendent of the house of el…sorry for the confusion.**

**If anyone noticed this chapter came out only a day after I posted the last one, all I can say is that this chapter wrote itself and your great reviews fueled my drive to write. Thanu all please review and subscribe**

**ObsidiansTwilight**


	5. Chapter 5

Scion of the House of El

Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**

**If I owned Superman and the DC universe Static Shock would get a more starring role. admit it he is awesome**

The ice covered stretch of land expanded out hundreds of miles in either direction. Frosty vegetation and snow laden wildlife made up much of the frozen tundra. To some this cold barren land of permafrost and glaciers would be a perpetual endless winter. An icy sort of twisted hell, where even at the warmest time of year the temperature was a blistering negative ten degrees Celsius.

Yet to one lone individual, standing tall in the whirling snow storm that was the Arctic, a single thought graced his mind,

'I'm home.'

Clark Kent breathe in deeply the clean sweet icy smell of the Arctic. His journey from Smallville had taken him north, thru rolling plains of hay and grass and hundreds upon hundreds of miles of highway road.

Clark stared out in awe at the sleek pristine white landscape. Snow churned under his foot as he took a step forward. He had left home only a day ago, left his old life, left his mother, left his past. The green crystal clutched tightly in his hand pulsated brightly with every step he took. And in his other hand his red blanket, tucked snugly under his arm.

The crystal had tugged and directed him, filling his mind with images and visions. Leading him to God's knows where. He took another step, the crystal all along flashing with his stride. His shoes, now a distant reminder of the past, worn away in the friction of his passage. His jeans, the inseams of his inner thighs were unable to handle the stress of his run flailed madly in the wind, ripped to shreds. Yet Clark failed to notice the dissolution of his apparel as the green crystal suddenly started twisting and jerkin madly in his hand.

He let go of the crystal quickly, taking a step backwards as the brightly glowing crystal hung suspended in the air before shooting off into the sky. He looked on in wonder as the crystal floated hundreds of meters above the arctic before rocketing back down to earth. The crystal connected to the ground in shower of ice and snow, the force of which was able to knock Clark on his back.

Clark rolled over on his stomach as the ground started shaking, even in the intensity of the moment he could help but mentally measure the 5.7 quake.

"Come' on Clark," he said to himself, getting up on one knee, "Pull yourself together."

Without warning a large crystal pillar hundreds of meters long shot out of the ground from where the green crystal disappeared.

"The hell-," he cursed when another identical crystal shot forth from the ground. The earthquake increased, getting more and more violent as numerous crystal pillars exited their earthy confines. The crystals locked and interlaced, crossing each other layering in such a way till it suddenly hit him.

'It's some kind of dwelling,' Clark thought in realization. As quickly as they had come the quakes subsided, quieting down slowly till they completely disappeared from Clark's acute senses.

He made his way up to the crystal construct, a lone star shinning upon the dwelling bathing the area in a soft silvery glow. Clark walked up to what seemed like a door, at least 30 feet high, it was more like a crystal and ice slab then a door. Not seeing any sort of handle or key holes he took a mental step back, his brain a whirlwind contemplating on his current problem.

"Think," he said quietly to himself, "The crystal brought you here, so there must be a way in." Running his hands along the smooth outer shell he searched for anything out of the ordinary.

"Well this whole thing is out of the ordinary," he laughed to himself.

"Nothing," he said, completing his search, "If there's no physical means of opening this door and forcing my way in is not a good idea, and then it must be a verbal command." Clark looked long and hard at the sleek exterior, running his hands through his hair.

"This reminds me of a story," he said to himself mystified on how to get in. "A boy just like me tried to gain access to a cave, he said something." Utilizing his perfect memory, feeling like all the world a jackass, and sending up a silent prayer thankful for no one to bare witness.

Clark spoke the words Ali Baba did almost three thousand years ago.

"Open Sesame"

The crystal slab slid smoothly aside revealing a shadowed interior, hidden from his current position. "You've got to be kidding me," Clark said, "That's the password, what kind of joke is this?"

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the nonsense. That was just a child's fairy tale; he didn't think it would really work. 'I came all this way,' he thought stepping into the darkness, 'I need answers, and if this is where I have to find it then so be it!'

The crystal door slid close silently back into place, closing off his connection to the outside. 'I can only move forward now,' he thought to himself, as he mentally took note of his surroundings,

He stood in a long Hall, the walls, floors and ceilings made completely out of crystal and ice. 'Much more of the former,' he thought, his microscopic vision analyzing the crystals. Noticing how much denser the crystal was compared to regular crystals. 'Whatever that stuff was made out of it was nothing found on earth,' Clark suspected that the crystals were probably stronger then diamonds.

In the middle of the hallway his eyes were caught by two large statues. Clark walked closer to the statues, his bare feet padding softly against the smooth glossy floor. The statues were of a male and female both holding up a globe of a planet, Clark could tell at one glance it wasn't earth. They appeared to be made of gold, yet at touching one of the statues he could see that it was not so.

"Some type of highly concentrated metal, yet I don't recognize any of the elements," Clark had to force himself not to take a sample, respecting the beauty of the craftsmanship.

The female statue was of a woman in her mid to late twenties, long hair down to her mid back she wore a plain gown, a diamond shape stood out proudly on her chest while in its center graced a styled S.

"I know that face," he said softly, the smile on the woman's face threatening to bring back memories of long ago. "She looks so familiar." Tearing himself away from the female statue his eyes fell on her companion.

"What is this," he gasps, taking a step back as he stared at the visage of the male statue. "Why is there a statue of me here?"

'No it wasn't him,' he thought upon closer look. The statue looked older, about ten years; it had broader shoulders a more prominent jawline. The man looked harder wiser. Just who were these people?

The statue had on knee high boots, pants tuck snugly inside. The same crest the woman sported also laid across his chest.

"These people were-"

A cape hung across the statues shoulders, billowing behind him in an unseen wind. Clark unfolded the blanket he held in his arms. Holding it up he studied the golden crest. "It couldn't be," he said walking around the statues.

The blanket fell from his hands as he looked upon the cape of the male statue. The crest in the exact same place as his blanket. "It's not a blanket at all," Clark whispered picking up the dropped cloth, "It's a cape."

Wrapping the cape around his fingers in reverence he looked up at the towering couple, "Are you...are you my parents?"

"That is correct my boy, although a simple 'open' would have sufficed in opening the door"

Clark turned his head sharply at the voice, standing there in the center of the hall stood a man 6'5 tall. Black flowing hair rippled down to his back, deep and as dark as an ocean, giving off a bluish sheen. Middle aged and clothed in nothing more than a plain cloak of the darkest of red the man gave a fatherly smile. Clark fell to his knees at the power that rolled off the stranger in waves.

"Who are you," Clark said, feeling no evil intent from the man. An excited exuberance filled his being as he felt a holy presence from the man.

In a voice saturated in love the man walked over to the kneeling boy, "I am the first Son of the Stars." The red man place a hand on Clark's shoulder looking him deeply in the eyes.

'I know those eyes,' Clark thought in wonder. 'I've seen them before.'

Placing both hands on Clark's arms they started to rise up, "I am the Amber Lord, The Russet Flame."

Clark was standing, looking up at the stranger as he spoke, 'That voice,' Clark thought, his blood pumping. 'I know that voice.'

"I am the Burning Phoenix, Magenta of the House of El."

'A dream,' Clark reasoned quickly, 'I remember a dream.'

"I am Rao," the stranger finished, "Vermilion God of the Kryptonians, Sire of the House of El."

Clark looked into his eyes and remembered. He remembered the faces of the people in the statue. His birth parents, he remembered love lots of love, then sadness. He remembered fleeting stars, passing planets, the man in red, the sun, a much younger Ma and Pa holding him in a hail of rain.

Clark started crying as he released the tears he never did for a lost world and parents he never knew. He cried as he heard the voice of his father sending him away, hoping to bring peace to a world shrouded in darkness. He cried remembering the kiss on his forehead, from a woman he never got a chance to know. Pain clutched at his heart as he realized the sad lonely truth, there were no others like him, and he was the last.

The man locked eyes with Clark, blue orbs meeting red. Pulling Clark in as images transferred between them. He saw a figure protecting him in space. Guiding him to Earth, letting him choose his life. Images flashed as he saw the same figure standing over his beside. A single word escaped his lips as he realized who it was standing before him.

"Father."

Rao smiled in pleasure, 'finally,' he thought.

"My son, never need you weep again," Rao said guiding the young El out the Hall. "It is time for you to know your heritage and your place in this world. It is time for you to learn"

Feeling at peace for the first time in his life, Clark let himself be lead out of the Hall. Contentment radiating off him as he took his first step towards the man Pa wanted him to be. The hand on his shoulder was gentle and yet emitted so much power; he never knew there was a being in the world other than him with so much power.

The two disappeared out the hall great doors, the old god happy and ready to teach, feeling at last his crimes may be atoned. The young Kryptonian, ready to learn, the overwhelming urge to learn about himself finally being visualize. Both currently unable realize that their union may shake the very boundaries of life itself, resulting in an apocalyptic hell that could ripe asunder all of creation.

* * *

><p>The school bell ranged loudly overhead, signaling the beginning of class. Students stopped their horseplay as the teacher walked through the classroom door, high heels clicking loudly against the floor as she made her way to her desk.<p>

Lana Lang sat with her head in her chin staring at the empty desk in the back. Like always, for the last couple of weeks the desk remained empty.

"Where are you Clark?" She said to herself.

No one had seen him since his father's funeral, a sad sigh escaped her mouth, she hadn't seen him since her party.

The teacher started the roll call, skipping Clark's name for the third week in the row. Lana looked back at the front of the class, absently twirling her hair between her fingers.

'I wished I had kissed him that night,' she reflected, her heart breaking, 'I wish I had been there for him when his father died.'

News of Jonathan Kent's death had spread like a forest fire. Within hours the whole town had knew. It wasn't till she had personal went to the Kent farm, to offer her own condolences that she had found out Clark had left.

Transferred to another school, Mrs. Kent had told her. It wasn't till a week later when he still hadn't come to school when she was forced to realize that he may never come back.

Lana looked back at his vacant desk, tears threatening to break free, she remembered that day clearly. She had been up the whole night crying.

'I know the reason why he left,' she thought, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. 'It was because of me, I hurt him just on the night his father died.' Lana brought her head to her desk, a pit forming in her stomach, a pool of tears growing beneath her.

'I deserve to be alone.'

* * *

><p>"Princess...princess where are you?"<p>

Diana sat on the roof of her home enjoying the summer night. A soft gentle breeze ruffled the young woman's long midnight hair as the stars shone brilliantly on the isle of Themyscira. The voice of her aid broke her out of her musing, "I'm up here Cydippe."

Cydippe stuck her head out her window looking up at the dangling feet of the Princess.

"Merciful Minerva Diana!" She exclaimed, "How did you get up there?"

Diana's legs disappeared only to be replaced with her smiling head, "I flew of course."

Cydippe rolled her eyes dragging the girl inside, "Child, not all of us are blessed by the gods, and you must not prostrate yourself out in the roof like that. It is unbecoming of your statue."

Diana adjusted her gown, allowing herself to stand at her full 6'2. Blessed by the Gods, when her mother shaped her on the sands of Themyscira, Diana was much more powerful than her Amazonian sisters. 'Yet,' Diana thought as Cydippe fussed over her, 'I'm still treated as a babe.'

"I'm fine Cydi," the princess said as she moved to a chair and started unstrapping her sandals. "I wasn't prostrating, I was listening to the wind."

"Really," Cydippe said, kneeling in front of the Princess helping her unfurl her laces. "And what does the wind say?" Diana sat back defeated, letting Cydippe take off her sandals.

"The wind doesn't say anything, Cydi," Diana said looking out her open window, "It just wants to be free."

Cydippe shook her head "Nonsense Princess, the wind doesn't know what it wants, come it is time for bed."

Diana sighed as she got into bed, although she was only a couple of hundred years old the woman on Themyscira all treated her like a child. It was easier on Donna, she still was a child. But lately she had restlessness, an urge to go out into man's world, other than being stuck here secluded in her room like a delicate bird.

"That's enough Cydi, I can tuck myself in," she said to the puttering aide.

Cydippe in the process of rearranging her sheets smiled placidly. "Alright Princess, I'll see you on the morrow, may the Goddess watch over your dreams."

"And may she watch over yours," Diana finished, her raven locks curtain her face as Cydippe exited through the door.

She stared at her ceiling trying to fall asleep, all this power she possessed, and she was still treated like a babe. Diana envied the wind, free to go anywhere, never in one place for too long impossible to catch.

She must get up early to train with Philippus at dawn. 'Why even bother,' she thought, 'Why train me when mother won't even allow me to enter competitions. What's the point of all this power if I can't fight?'

Diana turned her head looking out her window across Themyscira, beyond the veil that protected them, across the waters of the ocean towards the Patriarch world.

"What's the point in all this power if I can't protect," she said to the empty room. A bird flew up and landed on her window, it gave a tweet of sympathy before flying off into the darkness.

* * *

><p>Queen Hippolyta was alone in her throne room when she felt the presence of a god. A painting of Athena turned and looked at her, the Goddess infusing her power in the avatar.<p>

"My Lady," The Queen said dropping to her knees, "May I ask to what do I owe this pleasure of your presence?"

Athena in the painting turned to look at Hippolyta completely. The goddess was clad in her battle armor a deadly spear cradled in her arms.

"Hippolyta, there's a new prophecy in the world," the queen raised her eyebrow at the statement, prophecies occur all the time.

Yet the serious tone of the goddess kept silent, "I can't tell you the particulars of the prophecy but what I can say is that there is a new god walking the land."

The Queen stood up sharply alarmed, "By Hera, how is that possible."

"We do not know," the goddess said, "His presence is shielded from us. Not even my brother Apollo could divine his location."

"What kind of being has the power to hide from all of Olympia?"

"A being of immense power." Athena took off her helmet, golden locks swaying in the paintings background, "Unfortunately that's not the only bad news I have."

Hippolyta fell limply in her chair, all procedure gone, "What could be worse than that?"

For the first time Hippolyta saw an expression on a deities face she hoped she'd never have never wanted to have seen; fear. A feeling of dread trickled down her spine.

"The seals on Tartarus are weakening." Athena said simply, her eyes down casted, "We fear Cronus may have spent the last ten thousand years corroding the gates."

It was a testament to Hippolyta skill as a Queen that she didn't faint right away. "By the Gods, how long do we have?"

Athena placed her helmet back on her head, her godly courage returned, "We don't know, a year maybe two maybe ten. Its impossible to tell."

Hippolyta gripped the sides of her throne, 'This can't be happening,' she thought fearfully, 'If the Titan are released we are doomed. None of the gods are at the strength they once were; even Zeus will be defeated just by sheer numbers.' Hippolyta thought of her people, her daughters, 'Diana!' she must protect them. She had been Queen for three thousand years, if she must fight, then so be it.

Queen Hippolyta placed one knee on the cool marble floor and a fist on the ground, "How may I be of service my Lady."

Athena stood towering in the painting, her Godly Majesty filling the throne room.

"We need a Champion."

* * *

><p><strong>Author Notes<strong>

**Madge58: I'll tell you how I wrote on an iPhone, dedication, lol… naw it's really easy, I prefer it to the keyboard, it's a lot more mobile than a laptop. **

**Kal'garion: your name combines my two favorite thing, superman and the Belgariad, Lana didn't really play Kal, she was, and please no one be offended, just being a girl.**

**expect longer chapter from now on after this chapter, i promise :)**

**Thanks everyone for the great reviews, I really appreciate them. Review and Subscribe and stay tuned for the next Chapter.**

* * *

><p><strong>update<strong>

**this is just an update to Madge58 question, Diana isnt really a cougar per se, her personality isnt that much more than a sixteen year old girl, prehaps i should have made that clearer.**

**ObsidiansTwilight**


	6. Chapter 6

Scion of the House of El

Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**

**No I don't own Dc, I don't own Superman, I don't own Wonder woman, and all I own is a beat up old car and this plot.**

* * *

><p>Apollo materialized into the Great Hall of Olympia. As always the beauty of Zeus's seat of power lifting him into a heightened euphoria. Golden laurel wreaths decorated the Greek palisades in such a way Apollo hands twitched for his ever present lye hanging at his waist.<p>

Apollo made his way down the hall, his blonde curly locks reflecting the shinning rays of sunlight streaming through the open atrium. Noting absently that he was, so far the only one here. Seeing his own personal throne the God of the Sun seated himself.

"I must be earlier then I thought," Apollo said out loud, as he looked around the empty atrium. He waved his hand and a mirror appeared hovering in front of his face. Beardless and possessing endless youth, he was one of the most alluring of the gods.

A god of music and arts, he personified beauty and love. 'Although,' the god said thinking to himself, 'I hast none more vanity then that fool Narcissus.'

Albeit, he couldn't blame the entire tragedy upon Narcissus, even though a fool, Apollo had personally seen Nemesis tamper in the boy's fate. A powerful god he may be, but he cannot contend with the might of a daughter of a Titian.

"You love your beauty to much my brother."

The mirror vanished instantly only to be replaced with a golden haired young woman. A long silver bow hung on her back in contrast with the soft silk robe she adorned.

"Artemis," Apollo said to his twin simply, "Thou art as lovely as always."

Smiling Artemis sat in the vacant throne beside her brother, "Save you pretty words for the nymphs O'brother mine, your flowery speech does nothing but excite simple maidens and beguile old fools."

Apollo stopped his idle strumming, a golden eyebrow raised in mock pain, "Sister thou brusquest words wound me so." Turning his head sunlight dripped from his curls in golden rivers, "Tis a sad day in mine Olympia wenst sister hast spoken most fiendish to her own brother."

A sly grin spread across his face, "Alas," the Sun God sighed, "Frolicking with virgins and beast of earth will cur even the purest of souls." Apollo started chuckling at seeing the annoyed look on his twin.

"That look does suit you, O Goddess of the hunt," he said.

"Brother," Artemis said, giving him a light punch on his arm. A punch that most likely could kill any mortal, "I see your tact hasn't changed since the last hundred years we've met. How many bastard children have you polluted the world with, this century?"

"Ahh dear sister, thy must mistake me for Dionysus," Apollo held up his lyre, "For now this is my only child."

"For now, he says," Artemis scoffed, flipping her hair she looked around the empty atrium, "I see that you are early?"

Apollo placed his lyre by his foot, resting his arms on his knees, "I'm always early, and surely thee knowest this sister?"

"Waxes with the Sun, Wanes with the Moon," the twins said in unison, Artemis echoing her brother's favorite motto.

"Do you know why has Father called us to Olympia?" Artemis queried.

He looked at his twin, unsure whether or not to tell her. Zeus may want everyone to hear the news at one time. Tapping his chin Apollo decided to let her know only a portion of the details.

"Mine Delphi hast made a prophecy." He said calculating her response.

Artemis flicked her hair giving her brother a confused look, "That is nothing new, your Prophetess makes hundreds of prophecies a year." Smoothing her long silk gown she continued, "And I know most of them are about the weather."

Apollo shook his head, his golden hair flashing in the sun. "If it was that simple," he gripped his knees, "It would seem that thy and mine family are not the only Gods on Earth."

Artemis shocked, dropped her silver bow, the loud ringing clang it gave off, out of place in the beautiful cloud filled abode of the Gods.

"How sure are you about this?"

Apollo didn't answer but gave her a long measured look.

"Yes, yes, I know," she said lifting her finger as the bow hovered off the marble floor into her outstretch hand, "You are the god of prophecy."

"Ye would do well to not forget it," he said.

Ignoring the jab she looked at her twin worried, "What are we going to do, if the balance gets thrown off-

"Ah," Apollo said cutting her off, steeping his fingers, "Their here."

Suddenly Gods and Goddess started appearing everywhere. Ares, whom must always be taller then everyone in a given vicinity, towered at a massive twenty feet. Dressed in his shinning bronze Spartan uniform he swaggered over to his seat, a haughtily arrogant grin plastered on his face.

Aphrodite, one of the most beautiful creatures (in Apollo's astute opinion) to ever walk the land, glided to her seat. Her silken garments hugged every inch of her body, Apollo had to turn his head to force himself not to stare. Rippling red hair, and a lithe and slender body, the Goddess was a perfect specimen. Always the one for comfort, she allowed her throne to morph and mold itself around her petite sixteen foot frame. Sighing softly in content the Goddess of beauty let her intelligent eyes roam over the assembly.

Athena smoothly slid into her seat, her long legs easily raising her to nearly eighteen feet. Dressed battle ready, the spear held in her hand pointed skyward. Like a coiled spring she sat, always ready. A lioness ready to unleash her claws, her eyes locked with Apollo, a silent agreement passing between them.

'Good,' Apollo thought, 'The Amazons are preparing.'

Demeter and Hephaestus appeared next. The latter flashing his eyes dangerously at Ares. The god of war unabashedly flirting with his wife. Limping to his seat beside Apollo, the god of metallurgy mumbled under his breath, plotting.

"Calm thine self my little friend," Apollo said to the angry god. Hephaestus standing at fifteen feet was the shortest amount the gods, cast from Olympia on high as a child because of his deformity.

His deformity being only a severe limp, yet the gods, in the effort to always be perfect, couldn't abide the sight of something not in their idea of perfection. Thus Hephaestus was thrown from Olympia, his fall marked by the scars that adorned his body. His godly powers not manifesting until adulthood, he was unable to heal as a child, giving him now a grotesque appearance.

"In mine own opinion, thee is the best among us," Apollo thought sadly as he looked at his fuming friend.

Hestia and Hermes each appeared, both moving to their seats. Hestia always at home, curled in her chair, stroking the arm as if tending to a hearth. Hermes floated to his throne, a winged wand cupped in his arms. Settling himself in his seat, his mane of black hair covered his worried expression. As if he knew that today's event will change their world forever. For as someone immortal as Gods change is hard to accept.

The atrium rumbled and shook, the marble floor groaned in protest as a pillar of water appeared in the middle off the room and Poseidon stepped out. Arguably one of the strongest of the gods, the sandy hair ruler of the oceans made his way to his throne.

Looking down at it in distaste, the god waved his hand, changing the stone and marble chair to a swirling, twisting throne of pure water. Nodding to himself in satisfaction the God sat down, the water throne holding its shape.

"Cutting it close," Artemis said to the Ocean God.

Poseidon grinned unapologetic, "I've met the most intriguing human named Arthur in Atlantis."

"Intriguing, how?" Apollo said amused, Poseidon never got involved with humans. His go with the flow attitude was famous.

Poseidon let his sandy colored hair fall across his eyes as he replied, "He lost his left hand in a fight, and the poor child was making such a fuss that my daughter bestowed upon him a gift."

That was rare. Poseidon's daughter, The Lady of the Lake never gives gifts to anyone, not ever gods.

"She must have a thing for men named Arthur," Artemis said knowingly, her eyes sparkling madly.

"How so?" The God of the Seas said, stretching out his legs.

"Did not thy daughter given but a sword to young Pendragon?" Apollo inquired.

"Ah yes," Poseidon said remembering, "I almost forgot, the Summer King of Camelot. Isn't he due to return soon." he said to Apollo.

The Sun God shrugged, "May hap's, I must consult mine Delphi, thee ask a good question, Uncle."

Dionysus entered, staggering drunkly to his seat. 'Ever the one for theatrics,' thought Apollo sourly.

It was quite impossible for Dionysus to be even remotely drunk; the amount of alcohol it takes to intoxicate a god would fill a large Ocean. He and the god of wine never got along, ever since Dionysus was ascended.

Dionysus represented everything he was against. Whereas Apollo represents harmony, order, reason and moderation in all things. Dionysus, god of wine, represented ecstasy, disorder, gluttony. The God of party, is what the dryads and nymphs called him.

"Let's get this show on the road," Dionysus slurred, falling haphazardly in his throne.

A thunderclap was heard, everyone quieted down as all eyes turned to the two centered thrones. Lightning struck down from the heavens, and in a flash of light Zeus, King of the gods, Over Lord of the Sky and Hera his Queen appeared. The smell of ozone was thick as the two rulers made themselves comfortable on their throne.

Zeus powerfully built broad shoulders and muscular lean tone. Clothed in a long pure white robe, his silvery mane and perfectly groomed beard, gave him such halo of holy power, the gods and goddesses unknowingly all lowered to a knee in deference.

Hera, as regal as any Goddess, stood proud and tall next to her husband. Beautiful and posh, she was the epitome of womanhood. Where Aphrodite was beautiful, she was stunning, where Athena was fierce, she was dominant, and where Artemis was wild, she was controlled. Hera, Goddess of marriage, women and childbirth, held true the title of Queen of Queens.

"I've called this assembly," Zeus said, although he spoke not an octave above a whisper his voice thundered in the ears of everyone present. "Because the fate of this world may drastically be coming to an end."

The commotion Zeus's words ignited rippled thru the Olympians like an unseen wave.

Ares instantly jumped to his feet, "What!" He shouted, a long bladed broadsword appearing in his hands, "Who dares contest with a god, lead me to him father. My armies and I will cut this threat to pieces and feed his entrails to the pits of the underwo-"

"Silence!" The King of the Gods voice shook the ground as Ares lost his balance falling back into his seat.

"We have not the time for your idiocy," Ares looked on at his father in shock, wisely keeping his mouth shut. Electricity sparkled and crackled and Zeus gestured to his winged footed messenger.

"Hermes if you may."

Hermes slowly got out of his chair, floating towards the center of the room, as if he were trying to prolong the moment. Twirling his winged wand in his hand the God looked at his King in confirmation. Hermes let out a long sigh as Zeus nodded his head.

The deities started whispering among themselves, 'was Hermes nervous.' A god who seen more horrors then anyone alive was nervous, a subtle blanket of unease layered across the Olympians.

But Apollo knew better, he knew Hermes wasn't nervous. No it wasn't apprehension that made the God slower his step. It wasn't agitation that forced the God to twirl his wand. 'No,' thought the Sun God as he looked on wearily at the Messenger God, 'No, it was fear.'

"This meeting was called today because we have some disturbing news," Hermes voice held strong and true. "Reports from Apollo," everyone turned to look at him, he tilted his head, "And from the centaurs that guards the gates of Tartarus..." Hermes stopped unable to go on.

Apollo stood up; making his way to Hermes he placed a hand on his shoulder. Looking at the confused faces of the deities he continued where Hermes left off.

"My brethren, consulted I have, long and hard with mine Delphi." Spreading his arms he walked around the atrium, his action making his point clear; he was serious.

"It thus seems mine esteem grandfather hast not been idle theses thousand years," Apollo paused, letting his words sink in. "The Titan of Time hast done his best to corrode thine prison, methinks he hast succeeded."

The uproar that followed shuddered even to the gates of Olympia. It took Zeus three thunder strikes to quiet his Olympians. A thick web of unnerving terror spread among the deities.

Although most where not born at the time of the War of the Titian, the ripples of that battle was still felt to this day. Demeter, who remembered well the day Zeus came and release her from their father's belly. Went and comforted a sobbing Hestia, the Goddess of the Hearth knowing full well her powers will not keep her safe.

Dionysus, for once looked sober. Looking dead ahead, the god sat straight as a board. The arm of his throne cracked and crumbled under his shaking hand.

Aphrodite sat frozen; The Titian of time must not get free. She waved her hand and a goblet of Ambrosia appeared. Sipping it slowly, the Goddess eyes flashed intelligently as she thought furiously of their new predicament.

Ares stood up his red hair flailing madly around him, "This cannot be," he said, his fist crashing thru his throne shattering it to dust. "Nothing can fall the gates of Tartarus, even if all us Gods and every mortal who ever existed, threw our power against it, it would hold true."

Artemis leaned forward in her throne, eyes locking with her brother, "Unless," she whispered, her voice shaking in fear. "Unless we have..."

"Aye sister," Apollo said looking over the assembly sadly, "Unless we have a traitor."

The hush of silence that fell over the Gods was a low and smoldering rage. Betrayal was unforgivable. Apollo was positive that it was no one here, his power allowed him to see the light in everyone soul.

'It could be only one person,' he thought darkly.

"Continue," Zeus thundered to Hermes.

The winged God turned to his fellow deities, "I've felt the presence of another god here on Earth."

"Impossible," Ares voiced, "I'd long since felt another God's power, none may enter Earth's realm without my knowledge."

"None the less he is here," Hermes fired back, "And his power is enough to hide from us all. I only chanced upon this when a soul I sent to guide wasn't where it was supposed to be."

"How can that be Hermes," Poseidon voice was as smooth as a flowing stream, "All souls are in your domain."

Hermes shook his head, "That I don't know, I went to guide a soul to paradise, when I got there, there was no soul. Just a foreign godly residue, very strong and potent, I dared not to tamper with it."

"These are troubling news indeed," Poseidon looked at his brother Zeus, "What are we to do? Another god will upset the balance. If we do nothing an evil more unspeakable then Cronus may appear."

"I know this brother," Zeus said, eyes as cloudy as any storm cloud. "For now we must wait and see, it shall take Cronus years to escape, and this new god. If he is of a dark pantheon, then he must be crushed. As well this traitor!"

Zeus last words were said with such intensity, the hairs on Apollo's nape stood up. Terrifying indeed was the King of the Gods.

"It would seem brother," a dark silky sweet voice said from the shadows of one of the pillars, "That you are in a bit of a...situation."

Zeus turned and looked, his eyes flashing dangerously as he said one word, "Hades."

A tall figure swathe in darkness stepped into the sun. The rays from the golden orb doing nothing to illuminate the dark silhouette.

Ares strolled forward arrogantly, "Why are you here, uncle, you are banded from Olympia."

A pair of red eyes flashed under a black hood, "I see in my absence a tiger has grown a pair of fangs." Hades stepped forward; Ares gripped his sword tightly, involuntarily moving backwards. "Or perhaps the tiger is still a pup." The God of the Underworld said giving a low dry chuckle.

"Hades," Zeus growled, "You dare set foot back on my domain, and your exile has not been lifted." A bolt of lightning flashed in Zeus's hand. "Leave."

"Oh come now," Hades said smoothly, Apollo couldn't help but notice the similarities between Hades and a snake. "Is that any way to treat your older brother? I only stopped by because I thought you needed some help."

The bolt of lightning in Zeus's hand grew bigger, the message was clear; get out.

Hades ignored the look of fury on his brother's face, "I heard that Father was getting out early. Good behavior you think?"

"Hades because you are my brother, I give you till the time I next blink before I strike you down," Zeus bellowed hefting his bolt.

Laughing Hades disappeared in a puff of smoke, the sound of his voice echoing after him. "Say hello to father for me when he gets here, I know O so well how much he really wants his father-son time with you Zeus."

Zeus angrily clenched his hand, the bolt in his fist shattering in hundreds of smaller pieces. "Great," Hephaestus mumbled, "Does he not know the time I had took in making that."

"Hermes," Zeus barked.

The messenger God got on one knee, "Yes my King"

Zeus's robes whipped around him in an unseen wind, the Gods eyes growing white hot. "Keep thy eyes upon my brother, and if he does anything against Olympia." Thunder clouds gathered overhead, blocking the sunlight.

"Strike him down," Hermes nodded weakly, the possibility of contending his might against his much more powerful uncle was not an idea he enjoy.

Zeus looked back at the Olympians, "This meeting is adjourned, and I shall call you all back in a few years to prepare."

Poseidon arched a sandy eyebrow, "Prepare for what, brother?"

Zeus turned to look at the Ocean God; a thunder strike was beards overhead.

"For War," and with that Zeus and Hera disappeared in a flash of light, the other Gods taking heed, vanishing to their Domains.

"What are we to do brother," Artemis said, walking up to her brother, "If Cronus gets free, his revenge will be swift. We wouldn't survive his vengeance." Artemis started shivering.

"Be not afraid," Apollo said placing a hand on her back, "Thy fear is reasonable, but there is hope."

Artemis golden hair haloed her face, "Hope, how."

Apollo looks beyond the heavens towards Earth, "This being with the power of a God, methinks he couldn't have come at a better time." Raising his hand he called for his chariot.

"We can only hope he'll help us."

* * *

><p>"That's it Kal-El hold it higher."<p>

Kal-El was in the training room of the Fortress of Solitude. Sweat pouring down his body in waves. His shirt and shoes laid in a pile off to the side, long since thrown off. His arms were held high above his head holding up a long thin silvery bar of an undeterminable metal.

"Father," Kal gasped, his large muscles twitching under the strain, "I can't hold it anymore."

Rao standing before his son looked on, "Yes you can my child," stepping closer the God's presences help sooth Kal's overworked muscles.

"You can do this, it has only been 36 hours, and your body could easily go thrice that."

Kal bowed his head, holding the bar higher. Easy enough for him to say. Currently the gravity in the training room was set at over 44500x the amount of Krypton. Adding to that the amount the bar weighed and his weighted training clothes, most of which were now on the floor, he was lifting nearly a million tons. Never mind the fact he had been doing it for a day and a half.

For a year Kal had been in the fortress training, physically as well as mentally. For a year he had learned about his home world, his parents, and his destiny. And Rao, his ultimate Father had been their every step of the way.

No longer was he the skinny overly strong Clark Kent of Smallville. Hiding behind a mask, unable to show his self to the world, to use his powers to help. Now he was Kal-El of Krypton, powerful and strong. Standing at a full 6'4, he grew his hair out like Rao's, now it was touching the back of his neck. Although still keeping the curl on his forehead his mother had given him.

Kal dropped to his knees as the weight finally got too much for him, a small crater growing beneath him. Kal let the bar fall, landing in a shower of broken crystals. Looking at the craters Kal wiped the sweat from his face, "Reinforced diamond hardened crystal indeed, didn't think I could break it."

"It's an easy fix," Rao said, his voice as gentle as any breeze.

Kal got slowly to his feet, his long black training pants sticking to his frame. Over the past year he got use to something he never felt before, sweat. Kal flex his arms, nodding to himself as his strength quickly returned in the simulated sunlight.

The training room was as large as a football field. About two hundred feet high and covered from ceiling to floor with reinforced crystal.

Rao walked over to Kal, running his hands up and down his arms, "Your solar nodes are growing as expected." He placed a hand on his chest, "And your body is quite capable."

Patting Kal's chest gently Rao said thoughtfully, "So why can you only use 1/3 of your power."

Kal grabbed his shirt, the heavy material making grooves in the crystal as he picked it up, 'So much for this floor,' he thought.

"Perhaps father," Kal said, thinking twice about putting on his shirt in the gravity amplified room, "Perhaps I'm strong enough. I may have all the power I need."

Rao shook his head, walking out the room Kal followed, "No my son, it is not enough." The Great God placed his hands behind his back walking slowly, "The evil that is coming soon to this world is stronger beyond anything you could imagine."

Kal walked beside him, matching his steps to the God, "Could you not handle this threat by yourself, Father, not even I could stand against you."

Rao smiled fondly at Kal, to be young. "No Kal, though I may be above the rules that govern all mortals and Gods. I must not meddle directly in the affairs of Earth."

"I see," Kal said, "The balance thing again."

"Yes," Rao replied, pleased with his son's answer, "If I upset the balance any more then I have done, an evil unlike anything this world have seen will be unleashed. The devastation it will bring makes even me tremble. I dare say it's possible even I will fall it that were to happen."

Kal gave himself a mental shake, he wouldn't let that happen. Over the year he had seen the beauty of Earth, nature its people. Down to the smallest ant, his need, his drive no his passion was to protect them all. Under his watch no one will die, clenching his fist Kal walked stoically ahead, 'Not ever again, no one dying ever again, not like his father.'

Rao stopped walking, the Great God's head cocked to the side as if listening for something. Giving Kal a long look, "There is nothing wrong with you physically, the nodes in your body that take in sunlight I've increased exponentially."

Kal-El held up his hands confused, "Then why can't I access all my power?"

"If it's not your body," Rao said pointing at his still exposed chest, "Then it's your mind."

"My mind?" Kal took a step back as be digested the information, "I feel fine, my thought process is as sharp as ever."

"No," Rao said, "It's not how you think but more specifically the way you think."

"The way I think," Kal said now completely confused, "What's wrong with the way I think?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Rao admitted, folding his arms beneath he dark red cloak, "I shan't invite myself into your mind, I must maintain the balance and enforce free will."

"Then how will you help me Father?" Kal said running his hands through his hair.

Rao smiled brightly, "I won't."

Kal stunned, repeated, "You won't?"

Rao nodded his head; grabbing Kal by his shoulders he turned him around, "I won't need to, because he will."

Standing in front of them stood a middle age man, wearing a comfortable set of blue jeans and a fade red checkered shirt. Blonde grey flecked hair sat upon the head of a happily smiling face. "You've gotten bigger Clark."

Dropping his shirt, the young raven haired Kryptonian mouth opened in shock.

"Pa!"

* * *

><p>"A tournament Philippus," Queen Hippolyta said to her body guard. "I will decide our champion then."<p>

Philippus knelt in front of her queen, calm and collected, her golden armor shining in the throne room candle light. Although calm on the outside, she was anything but on the inside.

The things her Queen had told her, the coming war, the new god, it scared her more then she cared to admit. Three thousand years she had lived, an in all that time, the Amazons had never faced such a threat as this.

A fist against her heart Philippus bowed, "I shall contact the Bana my Queen, and we will gather the necessary contenders and have the tournament within two years." That should give the girls enough time to train; the champion must be the best of the best.

"Excellent," Hippolyta said, "See to all the arrangements."

Philippus nodded, "How goes my daughters training," The Queen said.

Philippus gripped her sword, grinning madly, "Donna is skilled beyond reason. Her swordsmanship is without peer, even among the eldest of our sisters. Archery, horse riding and spear throwing are the best I've seen in ages, especially for one so young."

Hippolyta smirked proudly, "And how fares my eldest?"

Philippus leaned back on her haunches, frowning. "If there were one Amazon on this island that can contest Donna and win easily, it would be Diana."

Queen Hippolyta looked sternly at her bodyguard, "Why the expression Philippus."

"My Queen," she said, "Diana may be perhaps the best fighter we have. I can say confidently she is better than me, but though her skills are superb she is not ready for any tournament."

"How so," Hippolyta said, her frown deepening.

Philippus hesitated, "She is too brash, her personality too naive. I fear her yearning for man's world may do more harm than good."

"I see," Hippolyta said, "I want you to keep a closer eye on her," the Queen stood up walking towards the exit, "I want her barred from the tournament, I see now she may not be ready for it."

Philippus followed her ruler out the door, "As you say my Liege, your will be done."

The door close shut with an audible thud, the sound reverberating loudly in the empty throne room. A dark figure moved outside the open window, slender and tall the figure flew skyward heading towards the high tower bedroom of Princess Diana.

Diana landed in her room, her face twisted in a mask of fury. 'Naive, was she, brash am I,' Diana thought, kicking off her sandals.

"Where have you been?" Donna was seated on her bed, a disapproving look on her face. "You know we are not allowed out at night."

Her sister Donna was her physical equal in every way, both had long midnight hair. Each blessed with the beauty of Aphrodite, the wisdom of Athena and the speed of Hermes. Yet Diana was superior in every way, she stood taller than her sister's 5'7, she was stronger, smarter and faster.

'So why,' she thought angrily, 'Is mother barring me from competing.'

"I was out walking in the gardens," Diana said, falling on her bed.

Donna raised an eyebrow, "And did your walk take you to Mother's throne room."

Diana didn't say anything, rolling over she looked out the window.

Donna gasps at her sister's response, "You did didn't you, if Mother was to find out..."

"Oh hush," Diana said, waving away her worry, "I wasn't caught, and I know what you're thinking I was not snooping around. I just overheard their conversation."

Donna shrugged unconvinced, "Sure Diana," Donna plopped up beside Diana, "What were they talking about," she said eagerly.

"I don't know," Diana said slowly, "I shouldn't tell you, it's a big secret, if it got out and Mother were to trace it back to me..."

"Please," Donna pleaded, "I promise I wouldn't tell a soul."

"Fine," Diana lowered her voice into a whisper, "Mother and Philippus are planning a huge tournament, their even inviting the Bana. They are going to name a Champion, to go out into man's world."

Donna eyes grew wide at the information, "That would be perfect for you; you're the strongest fighter I know."

Diana brushed off the compliment, her eyes clouded, "A lot good that would do me."

"What do you mean," Donna said confused.

Diana sighed, curling up in her bed, "Mother will not let me compete, and she thinks I'm not ready."

"What," Donna exclaimed, "How can she do that? By Hera that is so unfair." Donna patted her sister's head in sympathy, "What are you going to do?"

Diana eyes lite like fire as she laid in her bed. Her dark raven hair spread out around her in a pool of midnight. "I'll tell you what I'm going to do," she said fiercely, "I'm going to compete, I'm going to fight and I'm going to win!"

* * *

><p>"Are the preparations complete?" A soft smooth voice said in the darkness.<p>

"Almost sire," another voice answered, "In just a few short years he shall be thru."

"Excellent, tell your master I will be on the other side holding the gate open." The voiced slithered out.

"My master is pleased, sire, when he is freed he promises you Zeus's throne." A demonic tone entered the voice, "And any of the Goddess you may want."

"No, I just want the throne, he can keep the whores," the smooth voice lowered darkly as a hand reached out. The unmistakable sound of a gurgling throat was heard, "Do... not... fuck me in this, if you do I will find you and kill you." The hand move away, sheltered back in the darkness.

"I wouldn't dream of it sire," the other voice chocked, "I must go the master calls."

"Go," the voice said smoothly, "I shall be watching."

An unrecognizable figure moved in the night rubbing its throat, a pair of dark red eyes following behind him. "I have something much more frightening then you to fear," the figure said to himself disappearing into the night.

**Author Notes**

**Thank you, Thank you all for the excellent reviews. I am happy with all your wonderful words. I'm glad you all are enjoying my vision of superman, and hope you all will stay with me for the ride.**

**And im so proud of myself at the disctition between arthur and the lady of the lake, lol it was a puzzle i was glade to solve.**

**Please please, review, so I can modify any errors or know if I'm doing a good job, remember I'm still new at this.**

**Anyway hoped you liked the chapter and stay tuned for the update.**

**ObsidiansTwilight**


	7. Chapter 7

Scion of the House of El

Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**

**I don't get jack for this, no money or nothing. Lol. Fate is so cruel, DC if you wants some story ideas .Up…plzzzzzzz :'(**

**Enjoy**

* * *

><p>Two men sat on the edge of an icy cliff, watching the morning sunrise that came only once a month. One of the men was middle-aged, gray hair sprinkled over what were once golden locks. A pair of faded blue jeans and a tired red plaid shirt fitted him as regal as any King.<p>

The other man was much younger, a boy on the brink of manhood. Long black hair flowed from his head in an ebon river. He wore a white form fitted uniform. A large black styled S glittered on his chest, surrounded by a sea of gold. Cerulean blue eyes gazed across the never-ending icy terrain.

Kal-El and his father Jonathan Kent spent the last few precious hours talking. About life, about love, good and evil, right and wrong. The things Kal-El learned about his father in those fleeting few hours were more then he learned in all his eighteen years.

A translucent weather hand was placed gingerly on Kal-El shoulder. "Clark," his father said, as the morning sun broke the horizon. "It's time."

Kal-El balled his hands into a fist, feeling all at once the small frightened boy of his youth. "Dad," he said, his voice starting to break.

"I can't let you die again."

Jonathan Kent gave a sad smile as he turned his only son to face him. How proud he was of that boy. No, not a boy, a man. A young man, who found his true heritage his, true calling. An ethereal tear slid down his cheeks as he thought of the one last lesson he had yet to teach.

"My son," he said, gently gripping Kal-El's arms, "You have all this power." Looking past his son he could see the Great God Rao patiently waiting. "All the power of a God, but even a God knows that when fate decrees something must happen you'll just have to accept it."

Rao bowed his head solemnly. How so true that was, sometimes fate could be so cruel. _"Mother spare us poor souls."_

"I can save you Pa," Kal said, as tears clouded his vision. "We can go home, to the farm, to Smallville, see Ma."

At the mention of his wife, Jonathan ghostly visage slightly wavered. The eyes are windows to the soul, the old adage holding true as an ocean of untold pain and longing were held back as Jonathan cast his eyes towards the rising sun.

"Someday you will learn Clark, just as I once did. Something we all must learn." A gentle breeze drifted down the icy tundra carrying with it the weight of his words. "Although you hold the power of a God, you cant save everyone. And if there's a choice are you willing to sacrifice a life of one for the lives of many. To place one soul above all others"

Lord Rao pointy turns and looked at Kal-El, intent on his answer.

Kal-El electric blue eyes looked straight ahead as if piercing the heavens, barely a second passed as he answered the question. "Maybe I can't save everyone, maybe one day I will have to make that decision." Floating slowly off the ground Kal let the rejuvenating rays of Sol gently coat his body, "But that will not stop me from achieving it, and saving everyone and everything that I love. That won't stop me from fighting on."

Kal's white training uniform resonated with the ambivalent light of Sol as he hovered above the ground. Although initially surprised at his ability of flight he soon became accustomed to it, as comfortable as if he was on the ground.

"It won't stop me from succeeding, no life is above anyone, not even my own." Kal stopped to take a look at a falling snowflake, to him that single precious unique drop of frozen liquid was equally as treasurable as any life.

"I'd rather die saving a life than live and knowing I failed at it."

With that statement Kal felt at peace, the turmoil in his mind which he hadn't known had been there was sedated. Something inside him had changed. Perhaps it was his declaration of his intentions to protect life. Or his newfound purpose and the sudden inexplicable life changes that had been happening to him recently. But whatever it was, it made him stronger, he was thinking clearer.

Kal looked down at his hand as he realized with a sudden saddening thought _'Clark Kent was gone._' Or perhaps he was never here. _'Just a mask I choose to hide myself behind.'_

"Pa," Kal said unable to explain his emotions.

"I know, son, I know," the elder Kent whispered softly. Jonathan started to fade as his time on earth was ending. Rao made his way over to the transparent farmer, his black hair perfectly tied behind him.

"If I could give you more time I would," the High God gently said, "I've already tampered too much, another minute here on this plane and we risk releasing something."

Kal bowed his head, he was content, "Goodbye Pa."

Jonathan Kent raised his hand in a final farewell as golden locks danced softly in the gentle Artic breeze. A red checkered shirt hugged snuggly to his chiseled sun tan frame. "Show the world who you are son, what you can do. Inspire them, motivate them, be the man I know you are. Son, I have never regretted the day you came to us. Show everyone the reason why your mother and I love you so much."

And like that Jonathan Kent was gone, still very much missed. By the pain in his heart Kal knew that that would always be. Kal bent down touching the hard packed snow where his father once stood. Rao stood off in the background allowing his son the privacy he needed.

Whatever mental blocks Kal had on his mind were gone. He could feel his power slowly growing; already he could hear the billions of voices on the earth, the heavy rumbling sounds of the city. His vision flashed between x-ray, infrared, and his heat ray. Unable to control it, it was too much.

Kal shut his eyes and placed his hands over his head, the rush of the new emotions and sensation were too much too soon. Voices flooded his head as he heard across the globe.

"_Gimmie all your cash lady or your husband dies."_

"_O god no, please leave her alone!"_

"_Give it here lady and that pretty ring too."_

"_No get your damn hand off of her."_

Somewhere in the world Kal heard the sound of a scuffle, a few seconds of silence then the loud piercing crack of gun fire, and tears lots of tears.

* * *

><p>"<em>Should you be drinking and driving Sam, you almost hit that curb back there."<em>

"_Yo-yo-you you needa stop being suchhh a-a kill-ka-ka kill joy, im not even drunk.'_

"_Whatever man just slow down your going sixty in a residential area."_

"_Okey you sed don slow down." _Kal heard the unmistakable sound of a vehicle speeding up.

"_Dude slow down, Oh my God watch out for that kid!" _Kal forced his head between his knees as the sound of screeching tires threatened to shatter his ear drums.

* * *

><p>"<em>Someone please help me!"<em>

He couldn't take it anymore.

"_Help I can't swim!"_

They needed him.

"_My daughter, she was still inside the car, they've kidnaped her!"_

The entire world needed him.

"_The train is going too fast, everyone hold on were about to derail."_

Kal fist slammed against the ice cracking the land in half. Ice the size of buildings fell off, landing in the frozen water.

"_Help!"_

"_Somebody save me!"_

"_Help us, were trapped."_

A hand placed itself protectively on Kal's shoulder damming the tide on his wayward powers. Looking up he saw the all too knowing face of the Sun God.

"It gets easier to manage with practice my son."

Kal stood up, the voices not silenced only dulled. "You know, you can hear them all this time, and you have done nothing," he said in disbelief.

"I have my child, I have sent them you," Rao answered sadly. "I can only interfere so much in this realm."

Kal looked at his hands, flexing his fingers. "So much pain, so many people."

"Yes child, but imagine not only hearing this world but all of creation." So much anguish was in the Elder God's voice Kal nearly broke down in tears. To hear the cries of every living creature, such was a thought Kal couldn't even begin to imagine.

"Then how," Kal-El asked, "How do we bear it."

Rao, Vermillion God of the House of El locked eyes with his only and last surviving heir, "We are Kryptonians Kal, we must bear it, no one else can. We must struggle on; no one else has the strength. We must never give up, not even when all hope is lost. No one else has the power."

Kal touched his chest feeling all at once the weight of his house crest, "I must help them Father."

"Yes," Rao said, finally letting a smile touch his lips, "I wouldn't ask of anything less."

* * *

><p>"<em>Reports are coming in from China. A dam erupted just off the coast of the mainland and somehow miraculously the disaster was averted. The billion pounds of water narrowly missing the housing community of thousands. Eyewitness reports an unseen wind…."<em>

* * *

><p>"<em>This is Careen Malone at channel 4; I'm here in Chicago Illinois where local residences say a large fire in this small quiet neighborhood was magically put out. A local man says a shadowy figured was seen in the night sky, doing what he believed was blowing out the flames. More on this development later..."<em>

* * *

><p>"<em>And then he bent the gun like it was paper. He came and asked me if I was alright. He was such a polite young man, taking care of that mean bad guy for me.<em>

"_Whatever Grandma. Eat your soup."_

* * *

><p>"<em>From natural disasters to lost kittens stuck in trees, a mysteriously figure has been spotted all around the world helping those in need. Whoever or whatever you from the people at News Channel 10 we thank you…"<em>

* * *

><p>"LOIS!"<p>

A middle-aged man yelled out his office, sandy peppered flecked hair and a round belly thoroughly described the Editor in Chief for the Daily Planet, Perry White.

"Lois," he yelled again, "Where is my article!"

A Raven haired smartly, dressed young woman stuck her head outside her cubicle. "Don't get your panties in a bunch chief, I have it right here," she said waving a flash drive in here hand. "I'm waiting on Olsen to show up with the photo."

Perry White gave his equivalent to a smile, which was a low grunt in affirmation. "Make sure you give it to me as soon as you're done Lois."

"Of course, Chief," Lois Lane said, placing her hands on her hips in the jauntiest manner she could.

"When have I ever failed to deliver?"

Perry White was proud of himself when he found this golden jewel. Fresh out of college, graduating early from her high school, Lois Lane appeared in his building last year at the tender age of nineteen. He was apprehensive about hiring this straight forward ironed willed girl to his staff. Yet her writing style and her willingness to do anything for a story quickly won him over.

"_Although,"_ he thought sourly as he made his way back to his desk, _"The attitude he could live without."_

* * *

><p>"Miss Lane, Miss Lane!"<p>

Lois looked up from her writing to see the smiling face of the Daily Planet's youngest employee, Jimmy Olsen. "I've got the picture Miss Lane," he said proudly holding up a photo.

Lois wanted to squeal in happiness but held her composure, "Well let's see it squirt," she said eagerly holding out her hand.

For six months every photographer in the world has been trying to catch a picture of this mysterious figure that's has been seen all around the world helping people. No one has been able to, until this day.

"You wouldn't believe what I had to do to take that shot," he said handing over the photo, as he ran a freckled hand through a mane of red hair.

"My god Jimmy," Lois breathe, holding out the picture, her dark raven hair hiding her expression. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Although it was blurry and unfocused you could vaguely make out the unmistakable figure of a man. Clade in a red and blue formfitting outfit, a red cape billowed behind him as he held up what appeared to be a yellow bus, saving it from careening off a bridge.

"What is he," Lois whispered a note of wonder in her voice.

"I don't know Miss Lane," Jimmy said eyeing the red styled S on the man's chest, "But whatever he is its super cool."

There was a big change coming, she could practically taste it. Hell, she could see it; the proof was literally right in her hands. It was scoop, and what any good reporter knows is that you never pass up a scoop.

"I know what he is," she said rising from her seat, fighting to contain her excitement.

"It's a Superman."

Jimmy rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, "Superman eh, isn't that just a little bit conceited."

"Shut up Jimmy!"

* * *

><p>Apollo sat on his Golden Sun throne, his lye lying forgotten on the floor as he looked upon the world. A red and blue figure could be seen speeding across the globe. Whoever this God was he was like no other god he had ever seen. He was helping the humans like the Heroes of old.<p>

Apollo grunted in frustration as his attempt to touch the figure's mind once again proved unsuccessful. Even more, his direct endeavors to completely scry the figure led him to an empty hole in space, surrounded by rocks and debris. The Sun God's golden curls glowed with an unseen light as he decided his course of action.

"Theasus," he called, his voice carrying his tune throughout his Palace, "I have need of thee."

Answering to his master's call, a finely dressed youth appeared. Looking no older then a lad barely released from his mams tite. Theasus stood only a mere 67 centimeters, long brown tresses tumbled down his back in waves. He was beautiful boy, and had it not been for an unfortunate incident with his father the boy may have lived an old life. The boy's father was a man with a very large appetite, and when Theasus mother died his father came for him.

Theasus in his fear ran, his father giving chase. Regrettably if he had seen that ridge perhaps he would a lived to see a full life. Had it not been for the boy's eyes most would have mistaken him but a child. His eyes held untold centuries of knowledge, countless years of life, an endless reach stretching into eternity.

What transpire to the boy was tragic indeed, which was why Apollo snatched him from the belly of Underworld and made him his aid. Safe to say his uncle, Hades, was none too pleased about him sneaking into his domain. Over the centuries he had come to rely on the boy, and now he had need of him again.

"Theasus," he crooned, his voice resonating more beautiful than any minstrel. "Thou hast done well as my servant these past thousand years, I ask of thee to me but a favor and for thee to ask not my intentions."

Theasus bowed his head, after so many years still surprised that his God always ask, even though the response is always yes. "Anything my lord, I'm at your command."

Apollo leaned back pleased, "Retrieve my Chariot, and assemble my horses."

"As you wish my lord," Theasus said bowing away ready to gather the eighteen horses that pull his masters chariot.

His Delphi sat off to his left reading the prophecies, her glazed pearly white eyes gave a questioning look at the God of the sun, "Me Lord, mayhap, If your Lordships permits, why art thou leaving."

Apollo gave a very human gesture and shook his head, like she didn't know. His Delphi was blind, but that did nothing to stop her acute perceptions at picking every detail and the fact knowing what's going to happen before it did also helped.

"My Delphi, you surely jest, thou knowest exactly what is about transpire. Thou only want to hear her lord sayeth it."

His Delphi gave a slow long smile, and proceeded not to answer. Fine he shall play this game.

"Thee already know but tis a small matter to say," Apollo leaned over whispering for dramatic effect. "The new God hast revealed himself on earth; I shall go have a word."

His Delphi winked knowingly, her eyes glazing over as she went back to her farseeing. Apollo placed both hands on his knees as the world laid open before. What he was about to do was the equivalent of throwing a stone into a lake and he hope that the ripples won't cause a wave that drowns all in sight. He was about to do something no god or immortal has done for well over two thousand years.

Apollo steadied himself for what he was about to do, and what the consequences would be, he was descending to Earth.

* * *

><p>They locked him away. Betrayed by his own wife, and defeated by his own children. Cast away to the abyssal prison of the Underworld, a place of pain, misery and darkness; Tartarus. But he will have his vengeance. Did his children think that their prison could hold him forever, did they think that locking him and his brethren away will hold back the tide of his anger.<p>

For he was angry, a deep smothering rage. Tempered by his one and only true desire; to kill Zeus. He had overthrown his father Uranus to gain his pantheon, breaking his pact with the elder Gods. And for a time he ruled by fear, gaining more power, slowly but steadily. He had a plan, daring and seemly impossible. He strove to conquer creation, to wrest control of all, life and death from the unseen High Gods. And he would have, had it not been for one prophecy.

A prophesy that spelled his doom, Rhea, his bitch of a wife and Gaia, his bitch of a mother sealed his fate. When he devoured his children, in an effort to circumvent the prophesy, had failed because they hid his youngest and most powerful child Zeus. And gave him a rock instead. The pain he felt at their betrayer when he saw his youngest stroll into his pantheon flanked by an army to usurp his throne.

Alone in the dark The Titian of Time sat on his throne. All but his piercing red eyes could be made out in the dank murky abyss. Surrounded by his brethren he waited. Locked away in the deepest pit of Tartarus he waited. His eyes turned a dangerous glint of red as the Scythe laid across his lap withered in hunger for blood, the blood of a god. Oh yes he waited, for the day he rain hell upon all, and wreak havoc on the gods who imprisoned him. For time stops for no one but him, and the time of the gods was at an end.

* * *

><p>Diana was the Princess of Themyscria, a royal blessed by the gods. The island, that she may one day stand to inherit, was home to thousands of Amazonian women. The silver tiara sitting on her head carried the weight of her duty. And right now, as she sat on her window sill, in the dead of night, she felt the weight of that responsibility all the more.<p>

It's been almost a year since her declaration to Donna to enter the competition to decide the champion and to travel into the Patriarch's world. In that time she trained with a vigor the likes of which her trainer Phillippus had ever seen. Such had her skill grown in such a short time; it drew the attention of the Bana. A warrior as skilled as her should be competing, the only way to be the best is to beat the best. The Bana said, placing pressure on her mother to let her enter, yet three thousand years of rule strengthen her backbone. Queen Hippolyta keeping her resolve.

A gentle breeze glided through her open window, as the pearly moon shone its silver light across Themyscria. Diana gave a deep soft sigh, how she envied the wind. The freedom to go anywhere, not shackled by duty, tradition or old customs. The wind was its own master, nothing could hold it, and nothing could capture it.

Diana lifted up her hands, letting the soft breeze flutter across her fingers, suddenly her fingers clenched into a fist, as the wind whipped her hair wildly around her. She will have her freedom, as champion she would fall under her mother's rule, only that of the gods. As champion she would be free to leave the island, and see more of what else lies in the world. As champion her useless abilities would be put to use.

As quickly as it came the wind stopped, and with it her strength as she made her way tirelessly towards her bed. Like always Diana looked forward to going to sleep. Most nights retiring early just to escape to her dreams. For in dreams she could be anyone she wanted. In dreams she was never the princess, never an amazon. In her dreams she was just a woman. In her dreams she saw him.

He only started to appear in her dreams only a few months ago, yet every morning when she awoke, he was always on her mind. His face burned in her memory like a horses branding. He was tall, taller than her, and she was the tallest on Themyscria. She had never seen a man before, yet like the sculpture of Adonis he was built like a God. However like no god she had ever seen.

Broad shoulders, as if he spent years working the sword. Legs like a gazelle, and the hair. The darkest midnight hue of hair she had ever seen. Cut short, to about neck length, perfectly slicked back, offset with the most alluring curl centered on his forehead.

An emblem of some sort was fixed on his chest, a most brilliant shade of red set over a sea of yellow. He always wore a cap, red and always billowing behind him, as if it had a life of its own. Yet what drew her attention most about this man was not his strong sculpted chin. Or his cheekbones counterpoise by his enthralling dimples.

No, it was his eyes, an electrifying shade of cerulean that stripped her soul bare and left her feeling as a babe. Those eyes made her feel safe, gave e her sense of sovereignty over her life. When she closed her eyes this time and drifted off into slumber, something was different.

She was in a meadow, the scent of flowers were think yet pleasing. The sky overhead was a vibrant blue, '_A day blessed by the Gods,' _she thought.

Stricken with the urge she started walking, her silken white gown hugging her body as she swayed through the tall grass.

"Something is different," Diana said out loud, this dream almost felt real, it couldn't be could it?

"Tell me about it," a baritone voice said. Although she had never heard a man's voice before she instantly knew it was one.

"How did you…" she started to say turning around as quickly as she could.

Freezing in place she stood still, his eyes catching hold of her like a fish in a net. He looked almost as shocked as he was enthralled by her own eyes. They stood there for what felt lime hours, saying more by their looks then words ever could.

His felt raw, as he forced himself to say a word. A word he never before said, never before thought, but knew it as well as his own name.

"Diana," he utters softlyin Greek.

She didn't seem at all shocked as she said back to him in Kryptonian, "Kal-El."

Suddenly the dream ended, Diana eyes fluttered open.

"By the Gods," she whispered, drenched in sweat, "What happening to me."

* * *

><p>Morpheus grimaced, wiping his hands together as if he did something detestable.<p>

"Are you happy now,' the God of Dreams said in his deep slow drawl, eyeing the redhead beauty seated across from him.

"Quite," the auburn replied, gracefully sliding out her seat, a pair of long thin legs unfurling beneath her.

Morpheus stared at her limbs, tempted to act, but not stupid enough to do so. "May I ask why you wanted me to do that?"

The Redhead look at Morpheus as if he was stupid, a rosy eyebrow slowly raised as she answered, "True love must have a chance to flourish," saying it as if it was obvious.

A whirlwind of pink petals wrapped around her as the gorgeous ginger started to disappear, "Do not interfere with them unless you have my direct permission." The fair haired female said, her tone daring him to defy her authority.

Morpheus frowned, wanting nothing to do with any of this, least of all the Goddess of Love, Aphrodite.

* * *

><p>Kal awoke sharply, "Figures the one time I decide to sleep this month I have a weird dream." He said to himself, getting out his bed, in the small apartment he recently bought.<p>

He was in Metropolis, his dream city, a place he always wanted to visit since he was a boy. Now he was here, and still something felt as if it was missing from his life. For almost a year he ha had been using his abilities to help the world, the media calling him a superman, a fitting name, if not a touch inaccurate.

Grabbing a cup of water from his modest kitchen Kal tried to dismiss his dream, his kitchen was completely dark, blindly so to anyone other than him. He was alone, yet that did not stop him from speaking sternly into the serene shadowy area.

"I'd suggest you reveal yourself," he said calmly taking a sip of water, "I do not like it when someone comes into my home unannounced."

Out of the shadows stepped a man, in the darkness Kal could easily make out golden tan skin, bright blonde hair and a youthful face, looking no older than him.

"I should be more surprised of thee," the man said, a large grin plastered across his face, "Alas from what I have observed of thee, these fleeting months, tis naught the case it seems."

Kal eyes narrow in suspicion, this stranger obviously knew who he was, if not what he was. Sweeping his eyes around he quickly checked three hundred meters around his location, no one else was here. So it wasn't an ambush, even if it was who would dare?

"Does thou truly not knowest who I be," the stranger said, and if possible his smile grew wider.

Kal grew even more wary at the stranger use of the archaic speech, "I don't know, but believe me, you had better start talking soon." He said placing down his cup, ready for a confrontation.

The stranger clasped his hands and all the lights in Kal's apartment came one. A holy resonance pour forth from the strangers in waves, not as powerful as his father Rao, but enough for him to realize what was standing before him, if not who.

The stranger whipped his golden locks around him, his hair falling perfectly in place just behind his shoulder blades. Pearly white robes wrapped around his body, suiting him as any kings. "I've hast gone by many a names since the time of mine birth, since this version of man hast walked the Earth" he said as a halo of sunlight appeared overhead. Kal felt himself tremble with energy as he was strengthen by the stranger's presence.

"_Sunlight," _he thought wonder.

"Although to a fellow God, you may call me Apollo," The Sun God said grinning warmly, "My brother of the Sun."

Kal looked at Apollo and instantly felt a kinship, more so then he felt with his father Rao, whatever was going on he needed answer. Sticking his hand out to Apollo, "Tell me what's going on," he said recognizing there was something wrong, for a deity to come see him.

Apollo smile disappeared like the setting sun, "Come my brother, for I can see that thee hast much in common with, come to mine abode. For we hast much to discuss, for the sun will reach the zenith and descend before we art done. And still we will have much to say." And in a flare of light they were gone.

* * *

><p>Rao looked on from the fortress, a curious expression on his face. He knew all, and what he didn't know he always found out. Such is the blessing of being a high god, or perhaps a curse, he mused.<p>

'_So the son of Zeus has made contact with the son of Rao,'_ he thought, thinking of both of the Deities of the sun who were now let lose upon the world.

'_And the sun of Zeus has come down physically, without an avatar. Very dangerous, but who am I say anything about tampering in the normal order.'_ Even though Rao was pleased, the Elder God of the House of El braced himself for the coming storm.

"May the Sunset be long in coming," the elder God lamented, his mind always towards the future, and what he saw was disturbing.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes<strong>

**Ok, I'd like to say one, I didn't abandon this story, and two a marine's life is busy. Sorry for this update that was so long in coming. The chapter is not as long as I would have liked but I wanted to get this out to set the stage for the next chapter. Review and subscribe, promise more frequent update, you guys send some very encouraging pm's also the ones threating me bodily harm was awesome too. Review review and review, still new at this and your reviews are always welcomed, flames and all Stay tune **

**ObsidiansTwilight**


	8. Update(remastered)

Authors Notes

Hi guys been a very long time, between the Marine Corps and my career, and unexpected life changes coming back and finishing Scion of the house of El has always been put on the back burner, and for that I'm sorry if I disappointed any of my readers. Well the wait is over, I will be updating a new chapter this Fri (3/20/15)

Soon I'll start revisions on my earlier chapters and I plan to definitely start uploading a chapter either bi-weekly or monthly, my other two stories apprentice of the toad sage and Harry Potter and the fates of death will unfortunately be on hiatus, I have so many ideas for scion of the house of El that I'm literally shaking with excitement to share with you guys, thank you for continuing with me on my journey and I'm glad to be back

ObsidianTwilight

Update to the update

Sorry guys this chapter is taking me forever to write, lol its getting pretty huge, but I will definitely have it done in the next few days, Join my kik group for updates :) #scionofEl


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